


War of the Fire Throne

by SammaKlaus



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Air Nomads (Avatar), Airbending & Airbenders, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Avatar & Benders Setting, Bloodbending, Canon-Typical Violence, Earth Kingdom (Avatar), Earthbending & Earthbenders, Fire Nation (Avatar), Fire Nation Royal Family, Firebending & Firebenders, Genji Shimada is a Little Shit, Metalbending & Metalbenders, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Mom Ana Amari, Multi, Omashu (Avatar), Plantbending, Water Tribe(s) (Avatar), Waterbending & Waterbenders, Young Ana Amari, Young Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, Young Fareeha "Pharah" Amari, Young Genji Shimada, Young Hanzo Shimada, Young Jesse McCree, Young Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Young Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, foggy swamp
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-01-18 11:14:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 113,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12386946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SammaKlaus/pseuds/SammaKlaus
Summary: Genji and Hanzo, princes of the Fire Nation, are forced to live under the critical rule of their overbearing father, Fire Lord Sojiro. While Genji's deliberate disobedience gives him freedom and amusement, Hanzo and Sojiro can only see it as an increasing problem, one that threatens the future of their nation. One day Hanzo was ordered to do something about it.After an irredeemable mistake, the Fire Nation is left open to outside influences, even those that aren't as "outside" as expected. In an effort to restore balance to a world without an Avatar, both Hanzo and Genji must fight to defend their homeland with the help of people from many different lands and walks of life.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Critiques appreciated, negativity deleted!  
> If you don't like this story because of its included relationships or my creative choices, please don't clog up my comment section with insults or complaints. Not every story is for every reader.

Prince Genji Shimada, younger son of Fire Lord Sojiro, knelt beside his brother, Hanzo, in front of the Fire Throne. They were both dressed in their ceremonial royal armor, ornately decorated with gold dragons on either side of their breastplates and stylized Fire Nation insignias on their belts. They were expected to dress in this formalized version of their battle armor each time they met with the fire lord.

Genji had always hated the throne room. Despite the wall of flame that ran along the length of the back wall, the room managed to look dark and foreboding at all times, at least to him. It was a strange thing for a firebender to think about their nation’s most powerfully symbolic chamber, but it wasn’t the fire or the placement of his father’s throne that bothered him. It was the expectations the throne placed on him and, more noticeably, his brother. As crown prince, Hanzo carried more weight on his shoulders than any other person in the nation. It’d robbed Genji of his childhood companion.

At that very moment, Hanzo had his eyes fixed on the dark wood floor beneath him, lest the slightest hint of curiosity attract their father’s critical gaze. Genji wasn’t so concerned about that gaze. After all, it was on him most of the time, regardless of what he did. He knew why, of course; Genji had never tried to hide his disdain for his father’s expectations.

The chamber they were kneeling in was immense, lined with long red pillars with a sheen that helped to refract the fire wall’s light throughout the room. The routinely-polished plank floor reflected the same light, resulting in a golden shine that followed his father’s guests from the entrance, all the way up to his dais. The room was filled with balmy warmth at all times of the year, the fire wall’s intensity kept under constant control by the palace’s groundskeepers.

Despite the comforting temperature, everything else about the chamber was meant to intimidate those who walked into it. From the dark colors to the ominous glow and the unnecessary height of the ceiling, every feature of the room tended to make those who entered it feel small and powerless in the presence of the fire lord upon his dais.

 “Stop it,” he heard Hanzo whisper, just loud enough.

Genji stopped glancing around the room and looked down at him. Hanzo was still concentrating on the floor. He always seemed to know what was going on around him, a fact that was more amusing to Genji than disconcerting. Nonetheless, he took his eyes off the room around him and looked down just as his father entered. He heard the fire lord walk the length of the dais until he came to his throne, where he sat. Several seconds passed in silence, broken only by the calm crackle of flame, while he watched his sons. Both stayed in their reverent positions, unmoving.

“Hanzo,” he said at last. Genji allowed himself to glance at his brother, just quickly enough to see his body tense. He didn’t know why he thought it would be different that time. It irked him. “Rise,” Sojiro continued, “let us see the result of your training.”

Hanzo stood, allowing Genji to do the same. The younger prince backed away until he stood beside one of the nearest pillars, where he leaned his shoulder against it to watch, expecting a good show. He’d seen Hanzo training, getting better and better at their family’s signature technique. His progress since the last time they’d been told to display their skills was undeniable.

Hanzo bowed respectfully before snapping into his fighting stance, his feet spread with his knees bent and his arms prepared. He whipped his hands around in a circle, framing his upper body in a wreath of fire conjured from his fingertips. The fire quickly took an elongated shape, but not as quickly as Genji had seen in the past. Hanzo was being careful in the presence of their father, as usual. Sojiro seemed to be looking for something different each time…he hoped it wasn’t speed for this one.

The shape being formed by Hanzo’s bending began to move fluidly, features beginning to appear on it as it swirled around his body. Just as the fire took its final form, the form of a serpentine dragon, he whipped about and released it. The dragon flew rapidly around the pillars, dodging each one as if it had a mind of its own. Hanzo moved with it, directing it around the last pillar with his hands before turning it back toward the throne room’s main door where he allowed it to dissipate before it could singe the large pennants that hung on either side. Hanzo turned back around to face his father and bowed again, signifying the end of his display. Sojiro nodded slowly at him in response. Hanzo and Genji both placed themselves where they’d been before, in front of the throne, with their hands behind their backs.

“Better,” Sojiro began. His eyebrows arched before he continued, “but not what I expected.” Genji tried hard not to roll his eyes at that, with limited success. He saw Hanzo shift his weight out of the corner of his eye. “You are almost twenty years old,” Sojiro went on, his tone severe, “by your age I would have expected you to master your family’s technique. I should not have to tell you what was wrong with what I saw.”

“No, Father,” Hanzo replied.

“Then tell me what you failed to do.”

Genji’s gaze flicked over to his brother, genuinely curious. What he’d just seen was spectacular, in his own opinion.

“It was not as intense as it should have been,” Hanzo explained, his gaze set on his father’s judgmental stare to avoid looking like a coward in his intimidating presence, “I have yet to master the blue flame.”

The fire lord nodded again.

“You need to train harder,” he declared, “every fire lord of the Shimada Dynasty has been a master of the dragon. Your inability to do as they have done dishonors your predecessors, including your own father. I will not have you fail to carry our proud legacy into the future.”

“I will work harder, Father,” Hanzo promised obediently.

“I have heard you excel in your studies,” Sojiro pressed on, brushing his response aside, “is there anything you have to tell me?”

“No, Father,” Genji interrupted, “the instructors you assigned him say he is gifted. The only one who says otherwise is you.”

“ _Genji_ ,” Hanzo hissed at him, giving him an incredulous sidelong glance.

Sojiro stared at Genji, his anger toward him thinly veiled. Genji returned the stare, one eyebrow raised slightly above the other as if it were a form of challenge. Hanzo was looking straight at him by then, appalled by his blatant defiance. In spite of his outward show of confidence, Genji’s heart was pounding while Sojiro continued to stare, weighing his options. Finally, the fire lord broke eye contact to look at Hanzo instead.

“Good,” he stated, “then you are not a complete disappointment.” He practically threw that last word at Genji with a furious glare from the corner of his eye. Genji risked a little smile, which his father ignored. “It is good to see you take such pride in your brother’s abilities, Genji,” the fire lord growled, “now let us see if he can do the same with yours.”

Genji heard Hanzo sigh before backing away. Yes, it’d happened enough times in the past that he would know exactly what he was going to do. Genji took a stance similar to Hanzo’s, with the exception of the sly grin he proudly bore as he flicked two fingers out to summon a thin stream of flame. It twisted in front of him until it formed a comically skinny dragon that flew downward, under Genji’s arm and around his back until it reappeared above his head. The dragon twirled lazily in Sojiro’s direction before stopping in front of him and puffing a tiny gust of flame with what might’ve been a laugh if the dragon had its own voice.

Genji released his stance, causing the dragon to disappear in a wisp of smoke. He heard Hanzo take a step away from the throne while they waited for their father’s reaction. Sojiro looked down at his lap, his shoulders tense and his chest heaving with his growing rage. Finally, his head whipped back up and the wall of fire behind him flared, sending a wild blue light throughout the throne room.

“Get out!” he roared as the fire of the wall swirled above him, forming his own dragon instantly. It hurtled toward Genji at a terrifying speed.

Both brothers turned to run, Hanzo’s boot squeaking against the wood floor when he nearly slipped. The dragon of furious blue flame chased them out the open double doors and burst out after them, startling the six guards who stood at intervals along the staircase leading down to the gate from the throne room. Genji and Hanzo ducked, covering their heads, until the fire died down. Finally safe from their father’s wrath, Genji straightened his posture and laughed.

“Are you insane?” Hanzo demanded, “I know you can do better than that. You were just mocking him!”

“What is he going to do, brother?” Genji replied, “he can banish me if he wants to. I hear Ba Sing Se is more fun, anyway.”

With that, Genji flippantly spun on his heel and proceeded down the stairs. He didn’t hear Hanzo attempt to follow him, which was nice; he didn’t want to be lectured again.

\---

Hanzo walked down the open-air hall that wrapped around the perimeter of the courtyard below him at a determined pace. He was still thinking about Genji’s disrespectful behavior the day before. The fire lord had called him back later that day to discuss it, leaving Genji out of the loop. As much as he wanted to protect his younger brother from his father’s rage, Genji had left him with very little ammunition to use in his defense. It wasn’t the first time his brother had brazenly spat in their father’s face, but it was the first time Sojiro had told Hanzo to do something about it. Regardless of the fire lord’s orders, Hanzo was going to try reasoning with Genji…again.

The palace’s luxurious courtyard was dotted with blooming cherry trees that provided wispy and relaxing shade over stone benches spread along the pathway that snaked through it. Well-tended flowers gave the garden a constant, but gentle sweet smell. The yard was normally quiet, aside from the babble of the small river that ran from one end to the other, interrupted only by a clear pond full of colorful fish. At the far end of the yard the river sped up before rushing under the palace wall.

Normally, the courtyard was Hanzo’s favorite place. Its serenity provided him with more relaxation than he could achieve on his own; with a position as stressful as his, the yard had always been a vital part of his life. At that moment, the garden’s peace had been disturbed by the occasional giggle of a girl being amused by his reliably flirtatious brother. Sure, Genji was three years younger, but princes of the Fire Nation couldn’t afford to act their ages; they were responsible for the future of their people. While listening to him joke with the girls, Hanzo released his building frustration in a huff and started searching.

After looking over the pathways and under the trees from his place above the yard, Hanzo located Genji standing near the fish pond in the company of three young women dressed in the robes of Fire Nation nobles. Unlike them, Genji had donned a simple outfit composed of his favorite scarf and a double-layered red tunic of two different shades, tucked into a pair of gray pants. He had his black bangs held away from his face by a green kerchief tied over his the top of his forehead and his hairline.

In contrast, Hanzo wore his long, yellow-trimmed mahogany vest over a fine silk shirt, both cinched at the waist by a gold-buckled, black leather belt. Like Genji’s, his hair was black, but was tied back with a long strip of golden fabric in a loose ponytail. The two of them hardly looked to be part of the same social stratum, much less of the same royal family. Given the choice, Genji had never been one to dress according to his title. It was one of many things that irked their father.

Hanzo started toward the stairs, watching Genji as he joked with the ladies in a candid tone. The girls modestly hid their mouths behind their sleeves, but their eyes revealed their amused smiles. Hanzo sighed loudly when he stepped off the last stair and onto the stone path. Genji pivoted to frown back at him, then shrugged at the girls.

“Oh no, I’m in trouble,” he said in a mock exasperated tone.

Two of the girls gave Hanzo guilty looks, despite their coy smiles. He ignored them and came to stand beside Genji.

“Good morning, Prince Hanzo,” one of the girls greeted him with a curtsy. Her smile was less of a tease than those of the other two and her cheeks seemed to flush under her makeup when he looked at her. It wasn’t something Hanzo was likely to miss, though he chose not to acknowledge it.

“Good morning,” he replied tersely, turning to Genji, “we need to talk.” Genji sighed through his nose and turned to grin apologetically at the girls.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I will have to find you later; you know how my brother can be.”

One of the girls squeaked, despite her obvious efforts to stifle a giggle, before receiving a stern look from Hanzo. Her smile vanished.

“Excuse the interruption, ladies,” the crown prince said, somewhat sarcastically when paired with his annoyed expression, “I wouldn’t dream of disturbing your business if it wasn’t important.”

There weren’t any smiles left on the girls’ faces after that. They curtsied respectfully before hurrying away.

“Well,” Genji grumbled, “Father should be happy. You have gotten so good at copying his look.” Hanzo folded his arms. “But you would have much better luck with the girls if you would stop copying it when they’re around,” Genji continued, “you know, some of them are attracted to you. At least that should make you happy, hm?”

“That’s not what I came to talk about,” Hanzo replied coolly.

“You _never_ want to talk about girls,” Genji groaned, “you’ve become so boring.”

“I’ve become responsible,” his brother insisted, “and you should too, if you want to have any sort of future in our family. You can’t be a child forever and the more you try to stay the way you are, the angrier Father gets.”

“Do I look like I care about his anger?” Genji asked with a shrug, “perhaps he should care about _my_ anger for once.”

Hanzo’s arms unfolded and he placed his hands on his hips instead. As many times as he’d had this argument in the past, this was the first he’d heard of Genji being the one who was angry. Although he, too, was frustrated with his behavior, he couldn’t help being interested.

“ _You_ are angry?” he asked, “care to explain that?” Genji copied him by putting his hands on his own hips.

“Only if you care to listen,” he huffed. Hanzo nodded expectantly. Genji smiled. “We’ll see how true that is.” He turned to begin walking along the riverbank, closely followed by his brother whose arms were folded once again. Hanzo came to walk side-by-side with him. “I think you’re too eager to please a man who cannot be pleased, Hanzo,” Genji began, speaking more plainly than he’d ever been with him before, “you spend so much of your time worrying about how you will fail him and it makes me angry to see it.” Hanzo scoffed.

“What do you expect from me, Genji?” he asked, “should I not care about what Father thinks? What kind of crown prince would that make me? I must try to be the best heir I can be.”

“You have done that!” Genji cried, irritated, “you have done all you can and it will never be enough for him.” He stopped walking and turned to face him head-on. “What kind of fire lord will you be if you can’t do what _you_ want to do? If the only thing you know to do is to preserve a dead man’s rule?”

Hanzo’s arms slipped to his sides. He found himself staring at a lone patch of grass in the shadow of the nearest cherry tree, struggling to grow against the lack of sunlight. Genji had proven himself to be wiser than he’d thought he was, if that was really the reason he so brazenly defied the fire lord’s wishes. Of course, Genji knew nothing of how to rule. He’d almost never shown up to their lessons on dealing with the public or managing the national economy. Genji’s wisdom was based on a lack of knowledge; it wasn’t something to truly consider. Still, he could appreciate the way his brother worried for him. He took his attention from the grass and put it back on him.

“I acknowledge your concern—“

“Don’t talk to me like I’m one of your subjects,” Genji interrupted him harshly, “you aren’t going to think about what I said, are you? You’re going to keep doing just as Father says you should, like his most obedient dog.”

“Don’t insult me!” Hanzo exclaimed.

“You’re making it too easy. How can I not?”

Genji began to walk away, attempting to secure the last word like he always did at the end of their arguments. Hanzo noticed someone moving on the walkway above them. Sojiro was watching them, as he’d promised he would. His brow furrowed when he gave Hanzo another of his critical glares. Hanzo’s fists clenched and he stormed after his brother.

“Don’t walk away from me,” he warned him, “you don’t know what you’ll force me to do if you don’t take this seriously!”

“What _I_ will force you to do?” Genji demanded sarcastically without stopping his stroll through the yard, “or what Father will force you to do? Has he made you my babysitter?”

“Face me, Genji!”

Genji stopped and looked back. Hanzo could see the surprise on his face when he saw him in his battle stance. The younger prince turned around to face him and cocked an eyebrow.

“Father wants us to fight?” he asked. He shook his head with an incredulous chuckle. “No, that’s not it.” He folded his arms and stared him down confidently. “He thinks I’m not a match for you. How hard does he want you to beat me?”

“All he wants is for you to take your training seriously,” Hanzo replied, still holding his stance, “he wants to know that once he is gone we will _both_ be capable of ruling this nation in his stead. If this is the only way to convince you, I must try.”

“Because he told you to?”

“That’s beside the point! Are you going to prepare yourself or not?”

Genji rolled his eyes and slipped into his own stance. Despite his playful approach to training, Hanzo had to admit his stance was sharp...good, even. At least, better than he’d seen before. Perhaps he’d been practicing on his own time. Regardless, he knew Genji wasn’t as powerful a bender as he was, even if he’d been training apart from him.

Hanzo made the first move by jabbing his front-most hand in his brother’s direction, releasing a burst of flame. Genji pivoted, avoiding the attack completely. Hanzo wasn’t surprised; he knew it’d be easy to dodge. At least, now, he knew his brother was ready to fight. Perhaps the fire lord would calm his rage toward his youngest son if he saw he could hold his own. That was his hope, silly as it was.

Genji retaliated without a moment of hesitation. Hanzo ducked under the attack and spun on one foot to relocate himself. Without waiting for Genji to readjust to his new position, he jumped and kicked downward with his heel. His brother rolled away from the arc of fire and righted himself to lunge at him. Contrary to Hanzo’s expectation, he didn’t stop to reply in kind. Genji rammed his shoulder into his midsection, knocking him to the ground. Shocked, Hanzo still managed to avoid his foot when it came down at his head. Why wasn’t he firebending? This wasn’t what Sojiro would want!

Frustrated, Hanzo whipped his leg around to swipe Genji’s feet out from under him before rolling to stand back up. He waited this time, putting distance between himself and his brother before he could try hitting him again. Genji leapt back to his feet and he was…grinning? Hanzo groaned under his breath. What would it take?

“You’re not as fast as me, Hanzo,” Genji teased him, “why aren’t you taking your training seriously?”

“Shut. Up,” Hanzo growled, his teeth clenched.

It was time to stop going easy on him. He punched rapidly, sending a succession of concentrated, quick blasts toward his brother, forcing him to jump out of the way. Hanzo followed his jump, readjusting his aim without stopping the assault, daring him to throw fire back. Genji continued to dodge, kept on his toes by the bursts that followed him everywhere he went. Hanzo caught a glimpse of his face through the flame; he wasn’t smiling anymore. Good.

At last, Genji spun around, flinging an arm up to stop Hanzo’s fire with his own bending ability. He dashed toward him, closing the distance his brother had so carefully put between them, and tried to nail him with a point blank burst of flame. Hanzo blocked his burst by knocking his brother’s forearm away with his own. Genji slipped under his counter attack and tried again, aiming for the back of Hanzo’s head. His brother managed to duck in time to avoid a serious burn, but the smell of burnt hair told them both it was a close call.

Hanzo turned to face him and backed away, sparing a quick glance toward his father, who was still watching them from the far side of the courtyard. Surely, that must have given him pause. Sojiro folded his arms, giving no indication that he was impressed by his younger son’s ability. He angled his head upward, an eyebrow cocked. He didn’t want them to stop, at least not yet. Disappointed, Hanzo looked back at Genji, who was hesitating now, having noticed the fire lord.

“Just walk away, Hanzo,” Genji told him quietly.

Quitting wasn’t an option with Sojiro’s eyes on them. Hanzo jumped and summoned a wave of flame with an airborne twirl. He heard Genji grunt with the effort of a split-second dodge, but landed and looked to find him missing.

“What?” he whispered, looking carefully over the foliage for any sign he might be hiding.

By the time Hanzo heard him, Genji had already grabbed his arm from behind. He was hauled off his feet when his brother rolled him over his shoulder and slapped him face-first into the ground. Hanzo wheezed, the air knocked out of him, while he scrambled to get away with Genji hard after him, attempting to kick him back down. He pushed himself behind the trunk of a tree to give himself enough freedom to stand.

Hanzo had to admit: his younger brother may not have been on his level when it came to firebending, but he certainly had the advantage in hand-to-hand fighting. Unfortunately, he knew that would do little to impress the fire lord. In fact, if Hanzo lost this fight despite his superior skill, Sojiro would be furious with both of them. He didn’t want to imagine the consequences.

With refreshed determination, Hanzo leapt out from behind the tree to kick Genji in the temple. The younger prince grunted, but managed to block his follow-up attack. Angered that the fight had taken so long, Hanzo shoved him back with a sudden gust of flame from his lungs, catching him entirely by surprise. Genji backed away, wincing as he pulled his ignited scarf off, revealing a shallow burn on his neck. Hanzo didn’t wait for him to recover before preparing his next attack by wreathing himself in fire. Genji’s eyes widened.

“No, wait!” he cried only a half a second before Hanzo’s dragon leapt forth and engulfed him, hiding him from his brother’s view.

Hanzo knew how likely it was Genji had dodged again and that he’d be waiting to tease him as soon as he let up, the cocky bastard. His father would criticize him again for failing to use the technique properly and he’d be forced to apologize _again_. He was so tired of apologizing!

Upon hearing the splash, Hanzo’s anger vanished. He dropped his fighting stance and walked to the river’s bank to see Genji floating face-up in the water, his eyes closed. His clothes were charred, revealing a series of serious burns on the side of him he could see.

“Genji?” he asked.

His brother didn’t respond as he was carried downstream by the water’s current. Hanzo’s brief moment of triumph turned into instant regret when he realized Genji wasn’t conscious. He’d gone too far. Hanzo waded into the river and reached for his sleeve just as the current picked up, pulling it out of his reach.

He swam after him, suddenly aware that his brother was rushing toward the base of the palace wall.  Beyond it was a short trip through the small, dark tunnel under the wall’s width, followed by a waterfall that poured over the edge of the castle’s plateau. The result was a deadly drop to the lake below.

“Genji, wake up!” he called, reaching for him again.

He felt his fingers touch fabric and grabbed it securely before searching for something along the bank that could stop their progress toward the tunnel. Hanzo kicked himself toward the edge of the river where he could reach the bank, pulling Genji behind him through the water. He slapped his hand onto dry land, digging his fingers into the dirt where he could get a secure grip on the grass and its roots. Just as he felt himself stop moving, the weight he was pulling behind him lessened. He raised his hand above the water to see he’d only managed to grab Genji’s kerchief, and that it’d slipped off his head. His brother had vanished into the tunnel, where the hiss of rushing water grew louder.

Hanzo pulled himself out of the river and spun around to search for him, hoping he might’ve gotten caught in the tunnel’s opening or on a rock near the bank. When he couldn’t find him, he looked up to the wall’s top above him, his hands facing the ground. A jet erupted from either palm, propelling him into the air. He blasted up above the top of the wall and landed on its edge where he could see the river and the waterfall below him. There was still no sign of his brother.

Frantically, he jumped back toward the courtyard, breaking his fall with a quick, powerful burst from his feet. He ran to the edge of the river and fell to his knees, searching again. It wasn’t possible that Genji could be gone, just like that. He couldn’t have been traveling that fast. He wouldn’t accept that.

“Hanzo,” he heard his father say from just behind him. His head whipped around to look at him, his eyes wide in panic.

“The guards,” he cried, “the guards can find him. He must be caught somewhere, outside the wall!”

He jumped to his feet and started toward the gate. Sojiro stopped him with a firm hand on his damp shoulder.

“Calm yourself,” he said sternly, “I have sent word to the guards.”

Hanzo nodded, trying to slow his panicked breathing. They would find him and, after his burns were treated, he could apologize. It didn’t matter how badly he needed to win that fight; he shouldn’t have lost his temper, not with his own brother. He looked down at the wet kerchief in his hand. Its ends were black, having been singed by his last attack. It wasn’t a good sign.

But it would be fine. They would find him and heal him…

Unless they couldn’t.


	2. Chapter Two

The first thing Genji was aware of was the searing pain throughout most of his body, as if he were being punished for his existence. He tried to scream, but could only manage a high, stifled moan. He forced his eyes open to see the sun’s light filtering through the off-white cloth of a tent above him. It was quiet, aside from a gentle hiss and the occasional chirp of a bird. He focused on the hiss. Waves, he guessed. He could still feel the pain, but it seemed less intense as time passed. The shock of waking must have made it seem worse than it was.

After a few minutes of adjustment, Genji decided he needed to find out where he was. Carefully, he tried to push himself off his back using his elbow. Although whatever he was laying on was soft, the added pressure on his arm gave him a sharp sting, warning him not to try getting up just yet. He allowed himself to lie there, motionless.

Although his body was inactive, his mind was not. As he ran the memory of their battle through his head, Genji started to wonder how he’d survived. He couldn’t remember the instant Hanzo’s dragon had collided with his body, but he remembered the seconds before. He hadn’t had the time to defend himself from the attack; it would have hit him full-force. Perhaps Hanzo had been holding back, but the burning feeling that covered him head-to-toe suggested otherwise. Hanzo had done this to him, at his father’s request. This pain was their fault! How could he do something so cruel to his own brother, the brother who was trying to help him?

Genji’s thoughts returned to the present when he heard someone move the tent’s flap and walk inside.

“Ah, you’re awake,” a woman observed aloud.

He looked in her direction as she kneeled beside him. She was wearing a blue dress with white fur lining her sleeve cuffs and the dress’s bottom hem, the sort of attire he might’ve expected to see in one of the Water Tribes. He started to wonder if he’d somehow ended up by the north or south pole, but it wasn’t nearly cold enough.

The woman was young, perhaps a little older than he was, with pretty blond hair that’d been put in a high ponytail behind her head and beautiful azure eyes. Her expression was kind, but focused as she looked over his wounds. He watched her as she uncovered a small clay pot. With a fluid wave of her hand, the water inside flew out and hovered above her hand. She was indeed a Water Tribe girl, and a waterbender, too. If he truly wasn’t near one of the poles, her presence was a mystery. The floating water engulfed her hand and began to glow with an unworldly light while she moved it over his arm. Almost instantly, the pain there stopped.

“I’m sorry I can’t do much at this stage,” she said, “I can urge your skin to heal itself and soothe the pain, but the burns are too severe for me to clear them up myself.”

Genji grunted weakly, unsure what he wanted to say to her, and unsure if he wanted to risk hurting his face by speaking. The girl proceeded to soothe his other arm and both his legs before returning her water to the pot.

“Do you think you’ll be able to drink some water?” she asked, “I can help you, if you need it.” Genji cleared his throat with a half-cough.

“Yes…thank you,” he replied, his voice dry and hoarse.

“Alright.”

The girl twisted around to pull a waterskin off her belt and pulled out the stopper. She leaned down and lifted his head to help him drink, which he did gratefully. The water cooled his sore throat as it went down, making him feel a thousand times better. He wondered how long it had been since he last ate or drank anything. He had no idea how long he’d been lying there, under her care. The girl was extremely gentle as she set him down again, cradling the back of his head in her hand. He forced a smile to thank her.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” the girl replied, smiling as well, “you’re very lucky to be alive, you know. Had you been drifting in that lake face down, you might not have been able to right yourself before you drowned.”

“Right,” Genji muttered sarcastically, his voice stronger after being refreshed by the water, “I feel lucky.”

“I must say,” the waterbender continued, “it’s not every day you find a young man floating in a lake, covered in terrible burns. What could have possessed you to pick a fight with a firebender?”

“It wasn’t my fight!” Genji snapped, pushing himself up in anger.

Only seconds later, the pain forced him to lie back down. His throat stung from the effort of shouting, suggesting it, too, might’ve been injured in the fight. The girl stared at him, obviously shocked by his outburst. She kept silent for what seemed like a little too long a time, her pretty lips pursed as she stared at the tent wall in front of her.

At last, her head flicked down at him and her eyes were settled on his. Her eyebrows crooked and fierce, she watched him through narrowed eyes, as if expecting him to say something. She actually seemed…indignant, to Genji’s surprise. He realized he’d made a mistake by shouting at her, but his heart was still thumping. Her mention of his brother had sent a new wave of rage coursing through his body, hot in his blood. Perhaps he’d also made a mistake by trying to help Hanzo separate himself from their father’s tyrannical oversight. He should’ve left him to be miserable.

“You’re right,” the Water Tribe girl said at last, breaking the silence and her eagle glare in one motion. He noted her voice lacked the light-hearted kindness it’d had before. “It was none of my business,” she added, “forgive me.”

Her offended expression undermined her words. She avoided looking at him, and he suddenly realized he felt guilty. But he couldn’t bring himself to apologize just yet, not with his fury still boiling so close to the surface. His mind was being pulled away too easily, toward thoughts of revenge. He didn’t know if he could manage to be polite.

“Why did you save me?” he risked asking, keeping his gaze away from her as determinedly as she was keeping hers from him, “you don’t know anything about me, do you?”

“No, I don’t,” the girl replied, “but I do know you’re injured. I’m a healer by trade; it’s my job to help people recover from their wounds, regardless of how they got them.” She eyed him with an angled brow. “And regardless of how they accept my help,” she added, her tone flat and unappreciative.

Genji watched her in silence as she set strips of cloth across her lap. With them laid out, she inspected them before picking one up to start wrapping his arm, her touch still impossibly gentle despite his treatment of her. Genji couldn’t wait any longer. Suppressing his thoughts of revenge, at least for the time being, he genuinely considered apologizing to her. But was he not justified? It’s not as if the royal family’s internal conflicts were anything for commoners to pry into. Of course, she’d already said she didn’t know who he was. She was expecting him to apologize…and that glare! None of his father’s had ever compelled him to do anything other than pop a smarmy grin, but hers had made him feel awful. Perhaps it was best.

“I’m sorry,” he said after several minutes of deliberation, sacrificing his pride. He’d never acted as princely as Hanzo or the fire lord might’ve wanted him to, but it still felt strange to apologize to someone he didn’t know to be his equal; it was usually the other way around. “For yelling,” he added quickly, still avoiding her gaze, “you said I was right, but I wasn’t. I owe you something, don’t I?”

The girl sighed through her nose and let her hands fall down against her lap. The tension broken, Genji let himself look at her again. She continued to stare at the tent wall for short while before her lips eventually relaxed and she looked down at him, her brow softening. Finally, she smiled and continued to wrap his wounds.

“That was all you owed me,” she replied quietly. She tied off the bandage on his arm with a little bow, winking at him. “Well, that and loyal obedience to my instructions,” she added cheerfully, “after all, I don’t want you to ruin all my work by doing something rash. I hear firebenders are prone to that sort of thing.”

“I thought you didn’t know who I was,” Genji pointed out. The girl shrugged.

“Trust me, I have healed enough burns while passing through this nation to know the difference,” she retorted, her voice carrying a little more attitude than he was accustomed to hearing from other girls. He had to remind himself that he was just an ordinary boy to her. “It’s hard to explain,” she went on, ignorant of how unusual it all felt to him, “I suppose you could say a firebender is…’warmer’.” She laughed to herself. “That’s sounds so simple it’s silly, I know, but it’s the only way I can think to describe it. When you heal someone with waterbending, your spirits connect, just a little bit. I would hardly notice if I didn’t find it so interesting. If there were more scholarly resources in my tribe, I would research it.”

Genji found himself smiling, despite his sore burns and his discomfort in being presented with a social situation he’d been sheltered from in his youth. It seemed strange, then, that he hadn’t been given many chances to interact with the public as one of them. But he was glad his first true experience was with this girl. She was definitely different from the young women he’d entertained in the palace.

Noble ladies always seemed too eager to please him, offering their laughs and smiles so freely he wondered if his jokes actually deserved them. Not a single one had ever given him the piercing look the healer had, not even during his most sour of moods and, more importantly, none of them had ever made him feel _guilty_ for something he’d said to them. He’d never been so strongly compelled to apologize to anyone before. As difficult for his pride as it’d been, he realized he liked it. Talking to her was like a challenge or a game, rather than a string of words that ultimately didn’t mean anything.

“Who are you?” he asked after admiring her for a while, watching her diligent work, “your name, I mean. I would like to know.”

The girl tied the last of her bandages, secure but not tight, around his ankle and leaned back on her heels, patting her hands to her knees.

“I would like to know your name, too,” she replied teasingly, “are you sure you want to agree to this trade? You seemed secretive before.”

Genji couldn’t help but smile. It was a genuine one, rather than the obligatory kind he was so accustomed to giving the fairer sex.

“Yes, I’m sure,” he answered freely, “shall I go first?” The girl laughed at that.

“I think I’ve pressured you enough already,” she joked, shrugging, “you can call me Angela.”

The prince winced a little as he raised his hand, with no shortage of burning pain, and offered it to her.

“It is nice to meet you,” he said, “I am Genji.” Angela narrowed her eyes at his hand, but shook it carefully nonetheless, before lowering it back down again. She put her hand over his forearm and leaned closer.

“That’s enough of that,” she whispered, “try not to move, at least not for the next few days. As I said, you owe me strict obedience.”

“Yes, my lady,” Genji whispered back with a grin.

Angela cocked her head, amused, but somehow in a dismissive way, as if she thought he was up to no good. Genji wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or impressed.

“You’re a charmer, aren’t you?” she guessed, “is that how you ended up in the lake?” Genji shook his head, to which she raised an eyebrow. “No?” she asked with a shrug, “well, don’t you worry, Genji, I’ll have you back to your charming ways in no time.”

After patting him on the center of his chest, the one place that didn’t hurt, she stood up, throwing a bag over her shoulder.

“You’re leaving?” Genji asked, disappointed.

“I won’t be gone long,” Angela promised, glancing over her shoulder at him while she faced the tent flap, “I plan to make us a stew, and I need ingredients for that. As long as you stay here and rest, everything will be fine.”

Genji nodded, albeit reluctantly, and watched her trot outside. With her pleasant, comforting company gone, he found himself staring at the tent above him again. As much as he would have liked it to be so, Angela couldn’t solve all of his problems with her smile and twinkling eyes. Foremost of his problems was dealing with his father and brother. He didn’t know if they were relieved to have him gone, or if Hanzo had meant to push him so close to death, but they couldn’t be allowed to thrive after such a betrayal. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but he knew he would need to become a more powerful firebender to do it.

It would be a long process, one he would need to start as soon as possible. Angela had said not to move, but the fact that he’d been able to raise his bandaged arm without the pain forcing him to collapse meant he could do it, if he focused hard enough. Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Genji pushed his body up, slowly, on his elbows until he could almost sit up. Aside from the sting, something wasn’t right. His legs weren’t helping him at all, forcing his arms to do all the work. Finally in a position to look over himself, he stared down at his bandaged calves. They were well-covered, but his feet below were still exposed. What he saw was not what he’d expected.

His flesh was patched with red sores, framed in the remains of charred, dead skin that would need to fall away with time. The tops of his feet were nearly whole, but the state of his toes made his stomach churn. The smallest ones, his pinky toes, had been so blasted by the heat of Hanzo’s dragon that entire chunks of skin and muscle were burnt away. Thanks to Angela’s waterbending, they didn’t hurt nearly as much as he thought they should. Genji forced himself to look away, lowering himself gingerly back to his bed. His stomach was still rolling while he fought to get the horrific image of his ruined feet out of his mind.

He remembered, then, the moment he was knocked back into the courtyard river. He could remember seeing the clouds through a filter of red-orange flame, as if the sky itself were burning with his body. It made sense; he’d flown head-first into the river. That had to be how his feet had taken the bulk of the damage. It was all speculation, of course. He hadn’t even seen the rest of his body before Angela had bandaged it. Still sick to his stomach, Genji closed his eyes. He wished he’d listened to her.

\---

Hanzo sat with his knees against the hard wooden floor of his bedchamber, his head lowered and his eyes closed to fight off the well of tears threatening to build in them. It’d been eight days since Genji had been lost to him. The guards had been unable to find any sign of his body, a reality that’d seemed impossible to him at the time; there were only so many places the current could’ve carried him. He’d been forced to accept that, however unlikely it was, Genji’s body had been carried out to the sea, lost forever. He’d never been one to cry, but the loss of his brother threatened to open the floodgates every day, forcing him to fight them closed before his weakness could be exposed.

As much as his father had been pressuring him to resume training, Hanzo had refused to firebend since the accident, much less leave his room for his lessons. “Accident”. That’s what the Council of Elders and his father had started calling it. Was it really an accident? He’d acted deliberately, focused solely on winning a fight. Had he stopped to think, he would’ve known what unleashing the power of his inner dragon would’ve done to Genji.

He couldn’t stop recalling his brother’s face at that moment: his eyes widened to almost perfect circles against the paling flesh of his frightened face. He’d seen him use the technique often enough to know exactly what he was going to throw at him. He wished he knew what Genji was thinking at that moment. Did he know he was going to die? Did he feel pain before it killed him or had his body been thrown into shock? Hanzo could only hope for the latter.

Having defeated his tears with concentration, Hanzo opened his eyes and looked up at an image painted onto a thick banner of parchment that hung over the candle he’d placed against the wall in front of him. He remembered the day his father had given it to him and thinking how silly he and Genji looked in such a grand style. They were only boys at the time, too young to appreciate the artist’s careful rendition of them in their royal robes. It was the only image he had of Genji that didn’t include their father as part of a royal family portrait. It’d always been unimportant to him, just a cute reminder of his childhood. Since his horrific mistake, it’d become one of his most treasured possessions. He couldn’t bear the thought of parting with it.

Forcing all visible signs of his sorrow to leave with a heavy sigh, Hanzo ran a hand through the hair he’d been forced to cut after a chunk of it’d been burned in the fight. He pulled it together so he could tie it into a tight ponytail on top of his head. Once again presentable, he blew out the candle and sat up straight. His hand traveled down to his chin, where he could feel the beginnings of a beard growing.

He hadn’t shaved since the “accident”. It was more a matter of disinterest than laziness, but he doubted his father would see it any other way. He found he was starting to like the feel of his facial hair. He reminded himself to sculpt it later, to avoid looking too much like a slob in the presence of the other nobles.

At last, he stood up. He had to face the responsibilities he’d been neglecting in the past few days; after all, the loss of Genji meant the future of the Fire Nation rested solely with him. It wasn’t much of a change, given his younger brother’s irresponsibility, but he realized, in his absence, all humor had left his life. Humor! He’d never thought he’d miss it, having been too focused on how inconvenient it was.

Hanzo tore himself away from the image of his then five-year-old brother and hurried out of his bedchamber before he could catch a glimpse of it again. He avoided looking at the courtyard as he passed by on the walkway above it, worried he’d continue to dwell on his mistake. He’d done enough dwelling. It was time to move on.

He felt the oddest mixture of relief and annoyance upon seeing someone else headed his way. It was nice that he wasn’t alone with his thoughts anymore, but he wasn’t sure he could handle a full conversation with one of his father’s council members. They were always too cordial toward him, as if they could dupe him into granting them special favors should they still be in the nation’s service when he finally took the throne. He tended not to trust any of them, on principle alone.

There was no mistaking which council member it was, either. The man was easily the tallest person in the palace, as well as the largest. His bicep was big as Hanzo’s head, and for good reason; Master Akande was an earthbender, a type of warrior known for their strength. Just under a decade before, his presence would have been unwelcome in the Fire Nation palace.

Fire Lord Sojiro’s role in ending the latest war was well-known; he’d negotiated a peace treaty with the Earth Kingdom only days after his father, the former fire lord, was killed on the battlefield. As part of the treaty, the Fire Nation was gifted a piece of Earth Kingdom land, as some sort of attempt at appeasement. The Earth Kingdom’s representatives couldn’t claim they were being cheated, either; had the war gone on much longer, the Fire Nation armies would’ve overrun their defenses. Advisors from both kingdoms had been sent to their rivals’ courts to establish a safer, more diplomatic situation between them. It’d worked, to a degree, but there was plenty of bad blood between those who’d done the fighting.

Akande was one of those people, having been a hero of his side’s war effort before the conflict ended. Despite his status as a former soldier, everything about his behavior indicated he was in favor of the treaty. Hanzo couldn’t help but distrust him, nonetheless, and it wasn’t just principle that prompted it. Akande had too firm a hold on his father’s ear. Sojiro had trusted his input so much that he’d created a new seat on the Council, that of the foreign advisor. He was an equally strong and smart man whose intentions Hanzo had yet to identify, and he was in a very powerful position.

Unfortunately, there was nothing the crown prince could do about his uneasiness toward him, not even after his future coronation. Removing Akande from his post would be a serious insult to the leaders of the Earth Kingdom. If another war were to start, he would be the one to blame for the lives lost.

The tall, dark man was walking toward him at a leisurely pace, showing no ill will toward him. His enormous frame had been unsuccessfully hidden behind noble red robes that bore both the Fire Nation insignia and that of the Earth Kingdom, a sign of his position as a trusted diplomat. The color of his robes was a shrewd political move in itself; it made him appear to be more invested in the Fire Nation than his own birth country. His act was so good Hanzo wasn’t even sure it was an act. There were times he found himself wondering if he was just being paranoid.

“My prince,” the earthbending master greeted him when they met, adding a respectful bow, “it is good to see you out. I was starting to worry for your health.”

“I assure you I’m well,” Hanzo replied curtly, showing nothing of his true thoughts on his face. Akande smiled at him, nodding slowly.

“Good, very good,” he murmured soberly, “I wanted to offer you my condolences, but I wouldn’t have dreamed of invading your privacy to do it.”

“Your condolences are noted,” the prince muttered back, edging his way past the larger man. After noticing what he was trying to do, Akande graciously got out of his way.

“Have I offended you, my prince?” he asked once Hanzo had accomplished his goal. Hanzo stopped, but didn’t turn around to face him. Instead, he glanced back at him over his shoulder to reluctantly provide him with the customary eye contact that came with conversing with another human being.

“No, Councilor,” he said calmly, “I apologize if seemed rude, but I simply have somewhere I must be. I hope you’ll excuse me.”

“Of course, your highness.” Relieved he wasn’t going to hold him any longer, Hanzo left the man behind as he continued on his route toward the training hall.

He arrived to find it empty, as he would’ve preferred it. Although the area was called the training “hall”, the roof it once sported had been removed after what might’ve been a disastrous firebending accident had his great grandfather not thought quickly enough to end it. Now, it was more of training yard than a training hall. The ground was paved with stone, kept clear of flammable debris at all times by their diligent palace staff. Its high stone walls prevented any stray flame from igniting the wooden walls of the rest of the inner palace and its open ceiling allowed those practicing their skills to have free access to the sun above them. It was a source of power for any firebender, one that boosted even the most minor of skills.

Hanzo breathed deeply, already feeling strengthened by the warmth of the sun’s rays. As much as he’d wanted to avoid it, he knew he’d have to resume firebending eventually; Genji’s death couldn’t be the end of his duties toward his future subjects. His father had already made that clear with his constant reminders and he’d been much more patient than Hanzo might’ve expected him to be, thankfully.

The prince stripped off his vest and shirt, folding them and placing them neatly by the door, before he proceeded to the center of the yard where he sat, cross-legged, and allowed the sun to fill his body with energy. It’d been too long since he’d last absorbed the comforting warmth of its rays. Despite his sorrow, it filled him with life. He closed his eyes, enjoying the silence for a while.

Feeling reinvigorated, Hanzo stood up and spread his legs into his stance before thrusting both arms out on either side. Slowly, he began to circle them back around toward his center, channeling his chi throughout his body as he moved. Flames seemed to produce themselves, without his telling them to, as he concentrated on the energy inside him.

At last, he released some of the energy in a powerful forward punch, punctuating the attack with a grunt. He followed it immediately with another, using his other fist. He continued to send bursts of flame, one-by-one, rushing toward the far wall, trying to achieve the exceptional range he’d become known for. His refusal to use his skills in the past days had made him rusty, he noted; it took him four tries to reach the wall from where he stood. He stepped back until he was nearly to the rear end of the yard and started again. It was easier to adjust his power this time, he noticed. With precision, he hit the same spot on the wall several times before allowing himself to be satisfied, the spot left black with char when he finished.

Having recalibrated his aim and power, Hanzo was ready to practice in earnest. Reaching deeper into his reserves, he swiped his arm upward in a half circle, bidding his fire to follow it. Rapidly, he continued the circle, then turned and started another with his other arm, maintaining the intensity of the first with continued concentration. He leapt and kicked to the sky, bringing it down in an arc. Several circles of fire had formed around him within the span of a few seconds and he began creating more, quickly to avoid losing the first few. His work gave the illusion of a bubble of flame surrounding him, cutting him off from the outside world.

He concentrated harder, renewing each circle with more flourishes and kicks. His chosen practice technique was one few other firebenders could achieve, he knew, but it wouldn’t mean anything if he couldn’t carry his dynasty’s legacy. It needed to be hotter. His bright orange flames were subpar, lacking the intensity of his father’s. As usual, he became angry with himself for his inability to produce the blue flame, but it was just a drop in the ocean.

He hated his desire to please his father, the man who seemed barely phased by his brother’s death. He hated his stupidity in blasting Genji into the river. He hated that he’d failed to fish him out once the deed had been done. He hated his father’s guards for never finding a body. He hated that they had yet to give him a funeral. He hated that he couldn’t just move on, a clear contradiction that only infuriated him more!

The tension in his heart and spirit building exponentially with every failed attempt to strengthen his fire, he hardly noticed how scorching the dry air inside his bubble had become on his bare skin. When he did notice, he tried to shrug it off. It wasn’t hot enough. He couldn’t stop until he’d succeeded. For once, it was a matter of his own satisfaction, not the fire lord’s. He would burn the weakness from himself if that’s what it’d take.

His frustration finally at its peak, Hanzo roared furiously at the sky, unleashing his inferno with a synchronized swipe of both his arms. The bubble billowed outward in all directions, hiding everything around him behind a powerful blaze of his creation. Winded, Hanzo let himself drop to his knees and tried to slow his breathing, to calm his thundering heart as the flames dissipated. Not one of them had glowed blue.

“Very impressive,” a familiar, but unwelcome voice sounded from behind him.

He looked toward the door to see a wall of rock slap back into the ground beneath it, having been created just in time to shield the man behind it. Akande, again. He wanted something from him, clearly. Burying his misgivings about losing his solitude, Hanzo stood up and turned to face him.

“My apologies, Councilor,” he said politely, “I hope you’re unharmed.”

“Yes, yes,” Akande replied, still grinning about Hanzo’s display of power, “it was an interesting test of my reflexes. Luckily, I haven’t lost my skill since the war.”

“Was there something you needed from me?” the prince asked, hoping he’d set the polite small talk aside and get to his point. There was no other reason he would’ve followed him.

Akande’s smile dropped, to be replaced with a strangely grave expression. He walked to where Hanzo was, putting them into a more private range.

“Yes, actually,” the earthbender replied quietly, “something I was unsure anyone else should hear. In truth, I don’t know if I should tell you, but it has been bothering me to deceive you by omission.”

“You’ve been deceiving me?” Hanzo asked indignantly, his eyebrows arching in ample suspicion, “and now you wonder if you should be honest with me, the crown prince of the Fire Nation? I think the answer should be obvious.”

To his surprise, Akande smiled in the face of his veiled threat.

“I’m afraid so,” he answered, still smirking, “but it clears away my doubts to hear how eager you are to receive my secret.” Hanzo crossed his bare arms and waited, having no idea what it was the councilor could be intending to tell him. “It is about your brother, Prince Genji,” Akande began. To the prince’s relief, he paused, allowing him a moment to prepare himself for what he could only guess was devastating news.

After focusing to keep his voice under control, he acknowledged him: “go on, Master Akande.” As much as he’d tried to keep his tone level, it came out just louder than a whisper.

“Your father insisted that I never mention it,” Akande continued, “but I cannot fight my guilt any longer.”

The earthbending master was pacing himself just enough to accommodate Hanzo’s growing anxiety, as if he knew exactly what effect the things he was telling him would have on him. The prince kept his breathing slow as trepidation built in his chest. His father had been keeping something about Genji from him. He shouldn’t have been surprised; there were many things the fire lord never deigned to tell him, as a result of his official business. But he’d never once heard of him ordering his underlings to keep a secret. Preparing himself, he nodded for him to continue.

“Your brother’s body was never found because it was never searched for.”

There was the bombshell. Hanzo turned his face away to peer at him from the sides of his eyes, unsure if he’d heard him right. It didn’t make sense.

“What?” he asked simply. Akande’s gaze lowered, as if he were ashamed. Had he a part in it, other than keeping the information from him for over a week? “What are you saying?” Hanzo demanded, giving up on keeping his tone level, “tell me everything!”

The torchlight in the adjacent hall flared when he spat the last word out, responding to his unintentional influence.

“I was there when he told the guards to go back to their posts,” Akande admitted, finally returning his gaze, “I asked him why and he said there was no use in sending his guards away to search for someone who was most certainly dead. He said I shouldn’t tell you, that you wouldn’t understand.” The giant sighed, clearly frustrated. “He ordered me to never mention it again, but my honor would not allow me to keep it buried any longer.”

Hanzo nodded, unable to keep his rage from showing on his fine features.

“Thank you, Councilor,” he growled shortly while in the process of storming toward the door.

He paused only long enough to grab the topmost layer of his clothing off the ground, regardless of which garment it was. As he continued into the hall, he threw his vest on but allowed it to billow open as he rushed on his way. In a matter of seconds, he was almost sprinting toward the council chambers, ignoring the shocked looks and exclamations of the guards he passed. Without stopping to reconsider his course of action, Hanzo burst through the closed door, entering the room where Fire Lord Sojiro sat on a raised cushion in the presence of half the Council of Elders.

“Father!” he shouted, “we need to talk!”

“I am busy,” Sojiro replied sternly, without looking at him. When he noticed the confused looks of the councilors, he turned his head in his son’s direction. His reaction was immediate: “Hanzo! Leave and compose yourself this instant!”

“No,” the prince responded, his tone resolute. Sojiro’s brow furrowed in a mixture of confusion and indignation at his clear disobedience.

“Excuse me?” he demanded.

“I said we need to talk,” Hanzo hissed through his clenched teeth, “either you send the elders away or our private business is going to be theirs too.”

“Leave now and I may forget your outburst,” the fire lord insisted, starting to look embarrassed, “I have allowed you to grieve for your brother, but I will not be patient forever, especially if you allow your passions to disturb my affairs.”

“I am done grieving,” Hanzo lied, his voice coming out in half a growl, “and I will not leave until we speak.”

Sojiro was clearly fuming at this third refusal to his demands, but Hanzo didn’t move from his spot by the door, choosing instead to glare back at him, his own fury clear on his face. The fire lord broke the stare down first by looking toward the elders and gesturing for them to leave. They obeyed immediately and without question, clearly unnerved by this side of the prince they’d never seen before. Hanzo pivoted to allow them to pass, but didn’t get out of the way to avoid losing ground in the unspoken contest between himself and his father. Once they were alone, Sojiro stood up so he was on the same level as his challenger.

“Explain yourself!” he hissed.

“You should be the one to explain,” Hanzo growled back, “why didn’t you allow the guards to search for Genji?” Sojiro’s eyebrow arched critically.

“What?”

“Do you deny it!?” Hanzo demanded, slamming the base of his fist into the wall beside him to avoid releasing his anger in a more destructive manner.

“No,” the fire lord replied, his voice suddenly calm, to Hanzo’s surprise, “I knew you would eventually find out, but I did not realize it would be so soon. Who told you?”

“It doesn’t matter who told me. Why did you stop them from searching!?” Sojiro folded his arms, adopting a posture that more suited his calculated tone.

His calmness in the face of his son’s righteous anger only infuriated Hanzo more. That bastard was treating him like a child again, as if he somehow had the moral high ground.

“He was too wounded to survive the fall,” Sojiro replied at last, “I would not waste my guards’ time searching for the corpse of a boy who should have been able to defend himself from his own family’s technique.”

“He was my brother!” Hanzo shouted, unable to restrain his anger for much longer. One of the elaborately carved stone sconces burst when the flame it contained flared, heating it beyond what it could withstand. The shard that flew the farthest from its spot landed at Sojiro’s feet, prompting him to glance at it only long enough register what it was. His eyes narrowed before his gaze flicked back to meet Hanzo’s.

“Yes, and he was my son,” he replied through his teeth, “and his failure brought us both dishonor. His lack of responsibility undermined your rule. You would have had challengers even before your coronation!”

“That’s your excuse!?” Hanzo shrieked at him, threatening to destroy another sconce, “you tossed him away like garbage!”

The fire lord continued to appear unconcerned. He clearly didn’t know how close Hanzo was to blasting him through the thin plaster wall behind him.

“No, Hanzo,” he snapped, “ _you_ tossed him away.”

Hanzo’s rage fell from him as if the truth of his father’s words had opened a trapdoor in his heart and he stumbled like he’d been struck in the chest, gripping the doorframe for stability. Damn him!

When Sojiro continued, his voice had softened in the face of Hanzo’s exposed weakness, “I did not tell you because I knew you would have difficulty understanding that you are better off without your brother’s dead weight. Although I did not expect you to kill him, I cannot say I am disappointed. The pride of our family can finally be restored now that the stain has been removed.”

“The stain…” Hanzo repeated under his breath, absorbing his father’s crass words and storing them away for the future.

It took all of Hanzo’s restraint to avoid striking him when he came closer. His heart leapt in his chest when he wrapped his arms around him in a hug, something he hadn’t received from his father since his early childhood.

“It saddens me to see how wounded you’ve become, my son,” he said, almost tenderly despite how rigid the person he was holding had remained, “but I am sure that you will see the benefits in time.” He released him and stared down at his disheveled state with a critical eye. “Now, go,” he continued, “clean yourself up and we might forget this incident ever happened.”

Hanzo turned around and slunk away without a word. The fire lord had won that fight by hitting him where he was weakest, yes, but it wasn’t over. A time would come when Sojiro’s treatment of Genji’s memory would fuel his vengeance.


	3. Chapter Three

Genji sat cross-legged on the soft sand of the seashore while he listened to the gently rolling waves, soaking in the setting sun’s energy. It’d been several weeks since Angela had found him in the lake at the base of the palace cliff and she had already healed him enough that he could stand without her help. Although she’d chosen to make her camp a short distance away from any settlements, he knew he was only a few hours from the capital and his family, not that he’d chosen to present himself to them. No, he wanted his return to be more meaningful than that.

Angela had been generous enough to find clothes for him to wear. He had on a very plain red shirt of a faded shade, bound at his waist by a length of dark gray cloth, and matching pants he had tucked under the wraps that protected his injured calves and feet. It didn’t exactly match his style, but at least the clothes weren’t burnt like the ones she’d found him wearing.

Despite the heat of the summer evening, Genji wore his shirt with the sleeves left un-tucked, hiding the grizzly scars that lined his arms from shoulder to fingertip. Angela had said she could try to make them less obvious with her waterbending, but he preferred to have the reminder of what his family had done to him.

Like his arms, the rest of his body had been carved by the fight, including his face. His hair had grown back and half of his face was relatively normal, aside from a little gash on his brow, probably from his tumble over the waterfall. The other half, however, was marked by streaks of contorted flesh. Although the scars were severe, it was easy to see he’d once been very handsome like his brother. That lost handsomeness meant little to him, now that he’d found a purpose.

It was that purpose Genji was pursuing even then. Every day since he’d regained his ability to walk he’d gone to the beach to practice his bending. Angela had been gracious enough to preserve his privacy, but he knew she didn’t like him playing with fire so shortly after nearly dying of burns. He still winced excessively when he felt the heat of his own flames on his damaged skin, but he knew it was a fear he would need to push past if he wanted to confront Hanzo.

He wasn’t sure if he was angry enough to kill his brother, his heart caught between his lifelong love for him and his hatred for what he’d done. That hatred was strong, especially when he saw the scars. That was why he needed them; he couldn’t just forgive Hanzo without at least beating him within an inch of his life first.

“There you are!” Genii’s eyes flicked open when he heard Angela’s voice, carrying hints of disappointment and frustration, and he turned his head to find her. She came to meet him, holding a bowl in her hands, then sat down beside him to set the bowl in his lap. “You didn’t come back for dinner today,” she scolded him, “I told you it’s important to keep your body energized so it can fully heal.” Genji sighed and picked the bowl up to sip the soup’s broth from its side. “Make sure you eat all of it,” she continued, “I know you remember promising to obey my instructions.”

“How could I not?” he asked after lowering the bowl, “you make the best soup.”

Angela peered at him through narrowed eyes.

“Are you being sarcastic?” she inquired suspiciously.

“No, no!” Genji replied quickly, “I meant it as a compliment,” he paused to laugh, “I suppose my ‘charming’ abilities have been wounded. Do you think you could heal them too?”

Angela’s lips twisted in patronizing amusement.

“I’m afraid not,” she answered, pretending to be sad with the tone of her voice, “the damage is permanent.” Genji laughed before sipping the soup again. Angela giggled with him, then sighed as she pulled her knees up to wrap her arms around them. “Besides, I must be on my way soon, now that you can mostly care for yourself,” she added.

“You never told me why you were here in the first place,” Genji reminded her.

Angela shrugged her shoulders while watching a wave pull off the sand, leaving it dark with moisture for only a brief moment before it soaked deeper in the ground.

“I’m traveling,” she replied, “you see, in my tribe I’m the oldest waterbender. It was an ability we lost for a few generations, before my mother came to our village with her brother. They were both waterbenders…she was the one who taught me to heal, before the war. She and her brother had friends in the Earth Kingdom and they wanted to help. They didn’t come back.”

Genji nodded slowly while jostling the bowl, watching the bits of vegetables and meat swirl around in the broth. He wondered how she would react upon learning he was the grandson of the man who started that war. With luck, she never would.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I lost my mother as well, to illness. Father was never the same afterward.”

Angela sighed, drawing in the sand with her finger.

“It’s hard, isn’t it? Especially for our fathers,” she mused, “at least, my tribe is small enough that we’re all very close. We had plenty of people to help us through that time.”

“That’s good,” Genji muttered, his mind once again straying toward his own family and his hatred toward them. He didn’t know if he could say anything else to reinforce the ‘good’ part. It’d been a long time since he last felt comforted by anyone in his own hometown.

“Anyway,” the girl continued, “without them my younger cousins and I have no teacher, so I decided that I should be the one to find a waterbender in the north. I can learn from them there and bring that knowledge back to teach the others.”

“So, you’re not a master yet,” Genji said with a smile, “I thought otherwise.”

Angela smirked.

“I’m not a miracle worker, but I’ve always had a gift for healing. There are some things my mother never got to teach me, mostly how to fight. I’m not eager to learn that part, but we must be able to protect our tribe.” She shrugged, then raised an eyebrow at him and chirped, “your turn.”

Genji stopped with the bowl almost to his lips.

“Hm?”

“Why are you here?” she elaborated, “I thought, perhaps, you’d flirted with the wrong girl and gotten your just desserts, but the amount of damage didn’t seem to match. I mean, it looked like you picked a fight with a dragon.”

Genji groaned to himself.

“He would be so proud of himself if he heard you say that,” he grumbled.

“Who?”

“My brother.” As much as he’d wanted to keep Angela out of his matters with Hanzo, he couldn’t hear her story without returning the favor. She didn’t need to know the specifics, he supposed, but he would at least be polite.

He looked at her to see the horrified expression on her face. It matched how he’d felt when he first realized his brother was trying to hurt him. Of course, he’d had plenty of time to deal with the shock since then.

“We had a disagreement and fought; he nearly destroyed me, as you saw,” he continued nonchalantly, “but I’ll pay him back soon.”

“You’ll…what?” Angela asked, processing the information while studying his face as if she expected to find an answer to some unasked question in it. After giving herself a few seconds to try figuring it out on her own, she relented and asked the question, “you’re not going to kill your own brother, are you?”

Genji’s brow furrowed when he returned her gaze.

“You saw what he did to me,” he replied indignantly, “you think he doesn’t deserve some ‘just desserts’?”

“Justice and revenge are very different things, Genji!” Angela exclaimed, the concern on her face growing with each of his responses.

“Only sometimes,” he retorted, “and other times justice _is_ revenge.” He plopped the bowl back into his lap and yanked his sleeve up to reveal his scars. “This is the result of his crime, and he must face the consequences!”

Angela’s look of concern switched almost immediately to indignation.

“Is that why you didn’t want me to heal the scars?” she demanded, “so that you could parade them around to justify the murder of your brother?”

Genji pulled the sleeve back down and looked away from her to glare at the sea. It made sense that she didn’t understand his need for justice against his own family; hers seemed to be loving and supportive. He didn’t think he could ever convince her.

“I didn’t want to keep you longer,” he lied, “you’ve spent so much time on me already.”

He heard Angela growl something under her breath before she stood up and stormed away. It was for the best, anyway. As much as he wanted to stay with her, Hanzo needed to be punished and he couldn’t do that while lounging on the beach.

Genji silently finished off his dinner alone while the sun’s orange glow disappeared behind the island’s mountain, leaving him in the dim light of the rising moon. There was no time like the present.

\---

Genji dashed from shadow to shadow, making his way through the Fire Nation capital in the direction of the palace. He stopped by one house only long enough to snatch a length of cloth off a drying line and wrap it over his scarred face. Hanzo wouldn’t know it was him until he’d already beaten him, he decided as he ran. He stopped at the base of the hill leading up to the palace gate.

There were lit torches all along the path, accompanied by the palace’s guards, ever watchful. He’d seen the path enough times to know there were more guards than usual, as if Hanzo and his father had somehow known he was coming. That was impossible, unless Angela had figured out who he was and warned them. Doubtful. Shaking his head, he turned away from the path. It didn’t matter how many guards there were; he’d snuck in and out of the palace enough times to know its weaker points.

Genji rushed along the base of the hill until he reached the section of the palace wall that sat completely unlit. That section of the wall overlooked the long cliff that made up the backside of the palace’s plateau. For all he knew, he was the only one who’d ever managed to climb it.

Despite the dark of the night, he could see dim, white light reflecting off the waterfall in the distance, the roar of rushing water giving away its position even without the moon’s help. He’d been unconscious when he was last in its presence. As he looked down its length, he wondered again how he could’ve survived the fall. He hadn’t thought himself as lucky as Angela liked to claim but, seeing in person what should’ve been his doom, he had to admit she was right.

Steeling himself, Genji made his way to the ledge. Below him, nothing but black, the lake’s water shielded from the moon by the cliff’s shadow. Above him, the rest of the cliff rose to meet the base of the palace wall. There was light atop the wall where the guards made their rounds, just enough light to show him the tops of their helmets as they walked by. Halfway along the side of the wall was a window with warm candle light filtering through. It was the room that used to be his bedchamber. Why it was lit, he didn’t know, but he would find out soon enough.

Genji jumped off the ledge to close the short distance between himself and the cliff face, reaching out to grab the edge of the rock he smacked against. He searched for footholds with his feet, securing himself on the cliff’s side before looking up to choose his path. He found it quickly, accustomed to climbing in the dark, and channeled his chi into his toes.

With quick jet bursts from his feet upon landing each step, he propelled his body up the cliff, using his hands to steer himself toward the window. He climbed quickly, with the ease of a spider, and only stopped when he reached the smooth wall. Without any foot or hand holds, he relied solely on his firebending. With a quick, but powerful blast he rocketed up, above the window, and reached to grab the windowsill before he could plummet down to the lake below. No matter how many times he’d snuck back into his room after a midnight adventure in the city, it was always exhilarating to land that last grab that separated him from death.

His heart still racing excitedly, he climbed through the window, into his room. Giving his pulse a little time to settle down, he looked around. His room was basically how he’d left it, besides being cleaner than usual, with any signs of his actually living in it removed. His armor had been moved from the corner to the far wall where it’d been hung as if on display, with two candles on either side of it. Although they were lit, there was no one in the room with him. Genji wasn’t sure what he was looking at. Perhaps someone in the palace missed him, after all.

Stubbornly, the prince pushed that thought from his head. It didn’t matter if his father or brother had turned his room into a shrine; they were the ones responsible for his “death” in the first place! He couldn’t afford to let any doubts about his chosen path dissuade him from his just course. They were the royal family; if he turned a coward then, they would go on unpunished. He had no choice but to be the hand of justice.

Genji proceeded to the door where he stopped to listen for footsteps on the other side. After allowing a patrolling guard to pass by, he slipped out into the hallway and silently made his way to the left. He knew his father’s room was situated between his and Hanzo’s, which meant he would either need to pass it as his father slept or deal with him first. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do; fighting his father would certainly alert the guards and possibly ruin his chance at a rematch with Hanzo. He doubted he could fight both of them at once should his brother come to the fire lord’s aid.

No, he’d have to take Sojiro out of the picture, silently. It didn’t match the grand showdown he’d been fantasizing about, but it would have to do. Hanzo was his main target, after all. His betrayal had hit him the hardest.

Genji hid by the corner just before his father’s room while he waited for the guard to round it. When he finally reached it, the prince managed to strike the guard’s throat, preventing him from alerting anyone by way of a shout, then kicked his helmet off and hit him in the temple. He caught the man as he fell and laid him gently on the floor, unable to hide him yet. He’d have to wait until his father’s room was clear. He had nothing against their diligent protectors and didn’t plan to hurt any of them, but he couldn’t allow them to expose him either. Ideally, they wouldn’t find out who he was until his justice had been dispensed.

“Stop, there!”

Genji spun around to see another guard hurrying toward him, his spear ready. He cursed to himself, realizing he’d forgotten more guards had been posted outside. It only made sense to assume there were more within, to his disappointment.

Genji ran toward him, prompting the guard to try stabbing him. The prince, easily faster than most people in the palace, dodged the jab and grabbed the spear to ram the back end into the guard’s gut. Momentarily stunned, the man failed to react in time to stop Genji from wrenching the shaft from his hands and using it to smack him in the brow through the opening in his helmet. Dazed, the guard stumbled away from him, but he was in no condition to stop the prince from catching up to knock him out.

Sparing only one more second to take one of the guards’ swords, Genji dashed to his father’s bedroom door and went inside. To his surprise, the room was empty and lit with candles, just as his had been. It wasn’t a carefully cleaned as his, oddly; Sojiro had always been more fastidious than either of his sons. Where was he?

Before he could consider the implications, his instincts told him there was someone behind him. He heard a string being pulled taught—a bow! Without thinking, Genji whipped around and swiped his sword up to meet the arrow, which clanged against the sword’s steel at just the right angle. The arrow hurtled back in the direction it came and lodged itself in the wood of the doorway beside the person who’d fired it. Genji recognized him as the guard commander, dressed in his fine armor. The commander, a young man named Jack, appeared surprised for only a split second before tossing the bow aside and producing his sword.

Jack was very tall and well-built, though not as bulky as Master Akande, the foreign advisor. Still only in his late twenties, his undeniably handsome face had caught the attentions of many a young woman, but none of them had managed to distract him from his duties. He reminded Genji of his brother in that way. The prince had heard the commander was skilled with nearly any weapon, but he’d never had the pleasure of fighting him. He found himself wishing his first chance had come at a more opportune time. At least, that way, he might’ve enjoyed it.

“Didn’t expect another assassin so soon,” Jack said, brandishing his weapon, “this was the last mistake you’ll make.”

Another assassin? That explained where his father was; they must have moved him to a less obvious location. Of course, that meant his timing was as bad as timing could be. He considered letting Jack know who he was to stop the fight before anyone else could find out he was there, but that would’ve ruined everything. If he were returned to his position as prince, he’d have to resort to an Agni Kai to settle his conflicts. He wanted his and Hanzo’s confrontation to be between only them, private and meaningful, without his father’s input in it.

Genji didn’t reply to Jack’s threat, focusing instead on the implications of the battle, but the commander didn’t wait for him to say something before rushing forward to take a swing at him. Genji ducked and slipped behind him, under his arm, to fight back. He didn’t know how much he should hold back to avoid killing the man, choosing instead to swipe at his sword arm.

Contrary to Genji’s expectations, Jack’s height and bulk did little to slow him down. He jabbed his elbow backward to catch the prince in the jaw, knocking him away several steps before spinning to face him.  Genji stepped back to separate them for a split second, realizing he’d underestimated his opponent. Perhaps he should have put more stock in the fearsome rumors about him.

Although he meant the gesture of backing away to be a small signal of submission and respect, Jack didn’t hesitate. He launched himself at the prince, his sights locked onto him and his arm back, promising to deliver a powerful blow. Genji dashed to his left, just in time to avoid being decapitated, and whipped around to strike back with his own sword, his intentions more deadly than he’d originally intended them to be. Jack pivoted to avoid the stab and rammed his knee into Genji’s stomach, knocking him against the wall. The air knocked out of him, the prince-in-disguise barely managed to roll away before Jack’s sword buried itself in the plaster where his head had been.

“Stop,” Genji wheezed while trying to catch his breath, hoping desperately he’d listen before he had to resort to his firebending, “please, I mean you no harm.”

“You should’ve thought about that before breaking in here,” Jack replied coldly.

Without wasting the time to pull his sword free of the wall, he whipped a small knife from a sheath hidden in his bracer and tossed it at Genji’s head. The prince avoided being stuck in the eye, giving Jack enough time to yank his sword from where it’d stuck, then burst himself away from the wall with a well-timed jet of flame from his palms. He flew toward the commander, swinging a leg up in time to kick him in the face and knock him back against the wall. Although he appeared dazed, Jack managed to grip the windowsill before he could be thrown out.

Genji advanced on him slowly, his sword ready while he waited to see if he was still planning to fight back. As he crept closer, he kept close to the wall, hoping he could avoid nearly throwing the commander to his death a second time. Jack met his gaze unflinchingly, despite the little trail of blood starting to seep down his chin from his busted lip.

Before Genji could read his intentions, he rushed toward his foe and snatched the scarf that’d been wrapped over his head, whipping his sword up to meet it. With a deft twist, Genji pulled free before his head could be impaled, but he felt the scarf begin to slip. He paused only briefly, to make sure it wouldn’t expose his identity.

Although short, the pause was enough for Jack to bring his leg up and shove his foot into Genji’s midsection. The prince reeled until he felt something dig into his lower back as his upper body continued to slip backward. He realized where he was and grasped desperately for the window’s frame. Catching it, he cursed at himself for failing to be more aware of his surroundings.

To his horror, Jack didn’t relent. He rammed his shoulder forward and knocked into Genji’s chest, pushing him out into the night air. The prince reached out to grab the outer sill and stop his fall, sparing a terrified glance at the darkness below him. He looked up again to see Jack wipe the blood off his chin with the back of his gloved hand while he surveyed his opponent’s predicament from the safety of the room above him. He watched as the commander raised the hand holding his sword, the pommel downward.

Genji realized he had no choice but to tell him who he really was: “Commander, wait! I—“

Before he could finish, Jack slammed the sword’s pommel into Genji’s fingers, sending a searing pain deep in his bones. Unable to stop it, his hand lost its grip on the windowsill and he toppled down into the black.

Genji tried to fight back his panic as the sensation of falling sent his heart racing. Trying to think, he whipped his uninjured hand down, releasing a burst of energy in the form of flame. Although he could feel his momentum slow, only slightly, he knew it wouldn’t be enough to slow his descent before he could hit what await him below. For the second time in less than a month, the prince knew he was going to die.

Abruptly, Genji felt himself switch directions. His body flipped upward when an unnaturally powerful gust of wind overtook it. Suddenly spiraling in an unknown direction, he cried out in panic. When he felt something soft touch his hand, he grabbed on for dear life, only to feel the rest of his body land on whatever it was. It was bushy, wooly even, and warm. Like an animal? In the dark, he couldn’t figure out what’d saved him, but he could see the dimly-illuminated scenery around him rushing past. Was he flying? Impossible!

“Calm yourself, and be quiet,” he heard someone tell him, his voice totally serene despite the impossibility of the situation.

Genji kept quiet as he was told, but he doubted he could fulfill the first of the mystery man’s requests. Perhaps he was already dead and his mind had blocked out the pain of his fatal impact. Still catching his breath, he decided not to think about it anymore. He buried his head in the wool and let his fate come.


	4. Chapter Four

Genji didn’t release his death grip on the creature’s fur until he felt them stop moving. After a slight jolt, he realized they’d landed and scrambled off the animal’s back, only to land on his rear in the grass beneath them. He peered up to see an enormous, white animal with six hairy legs standing in the moonlight. Its enormous head was turned to peer at him and, although he knew it was only an animal, he could have sworn he saw amusement in its eyes. It had a pattern of brown dots in the fur of its forehead, arranged in a quadrilateral shape.

It took his mind longer than he would’ve liked to register what he was looking at. It was an air bison, a flying creature that was almost never seen within the Fire Nation’s borders, at least not since his father cut ties with the Air Nomads over a difference in philosophy. He remembered visiting the air temples quite often in his early childhood, but he hadn’t seen a single bison since his last visit when he was only ten years old.

Atop the bison’s back sat a skinny, bald man with a smile on his face and his legs crossed. Although it looked like his eyes were closed, there was no doubt he was looking directly at Genji, a fact the prince tested by swaying back and forth, only to see his gaze following him. There was no one else around, which meant he had to be the one who’d spoken to him before.

The man was dressed in baggy orange pants while a simple tan sash was the only thing that covered his torso, wrapped over one shoulder and tucked under his rope belt where the ends were left to fly freely. Aside from his simple brown shoes and the wraps over his forearms, the only other thing he wore was a necklace of large silver beads. If the bison and his clothes weren’t good enough clues, the pattern of blue dots tattooed on his forehead in the shape of a square revealed him to be an airbending master, a Tekhartha as they were called.

“You found him!”

Angela? Genji looked to see the girl approaching them from her tent with a torch in hand. He realized he’d been too distracted by the flying to recognize the scenery when they landed. He scrambled to his feet, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

“He was not hard to find,” the man replied.

Genji frowned at him, then realized he wouldn’t have seen that with his face covered. His foolishness seemed to be building by the second. As much as he wanted to tell the man off, he knew he owed him more respect than that for saving his life. Angela stopped beside Genji and grabbed his injured hand, causing him to hiss painfully through his teeth.

“Careful,” he whispered.

Angela sighed angrily at him.

“I take my eyes off you for a few minutes and you get yourself injured again,” she grumbled, “what were you thinking?”

“I thought you were leaving,” Genji grumbled back.

“I was, until our friend told me what you were planning to do.” Angela paused to narrow her eyes at him. “Are you trying to test my patience?”

Genji’s eyes shot over to ‘their friend’ while Angela looked over his hand. What did he know about his intentions? How did he know Angela?

“Hold on,” he said, “what did he tell you? Who is he?”

The airbender chuckled quietly from his perch on the bison, then fluttered off the creature’s back with a little burst of wind and landed on the ground in front of them.

“You must not remember me,” he said, “I thought, perhaps, you might not. Of course, I did have my hopes.”

Genji looked over him again, trying not to disappoint him. He didn’t know many airbenders, but those he met in the air temples as a child would’ve known him to be a prince. He tried to think back over the years. Yes, there was one boy he’d befriended in the Northern Air Temple. Losing contact with him was one of the first things that’d made him disappointed in his father’s decisions. He remembered his friend was about his age back then, and the airbender did seem to be old enough to match it.

“Zenyatta?” he asked at last.

“Wonderful,” the airbender replied gleefully, “it is good to see you again, Genji, and very lucky for you.”

“How did you know where to find me? If you came any later…”

“Your dragon technique is very eye-catching, even to someone passing overhead,” Zenyatta explained, “and finding a descendent of your line practicing his abilities on a lonely beach is abnormal, to say the least. Out of curiosity, I began to watch you a few days ago. I hope you will forgive my nosiness; I was worried something was wrong.”

“You have no idea,” Genji grumbled.

“I do now.”

“After you left at sundown, he came to meet me,” Angela continued the explanation, “that’s when we figured out what you were going to do. You could have told me you were a prince. That way, I might’ve talked you out of sneaking into a heavily-guarded palace.” She crossed her arms, her brow furrowed in anger. “I can’t believe you thought you could kill the fire lord in his own home.” Hearing her say it like that, Genji realized it was pretty silly of him. She slapped the back of his head, surprising him. “And only three days after an assassin snuck in! I have to wonder if you were thinking at all.”

Genji took a few steps away from her before she could release her frustration on him again, rubbing the back of his head where she’d slapped him. He pulled the scarf off his face, allowing the cool night air to dry the sweat that’d gathered on his face during the taxing events only minutes earlier.

“I didn’t know!” he complained, “besides, I didn’t go there to kill my father, I was there to challenge my brother.”

Angela’s visible disappointment in him faded instantly at his response. Likewise, Zenyatta’s smile dropped. Genji had a dire sinking feeling in his heart. They looked sad for him…could that mean…?

“Is…he alright?” he asked quietly, “the assassin—did he come for Hanzo? Why would anyone…!?”

“Your brother is still alive,” Zenyatta assured him calmly.

The combination of his words and the tone of his voice did much to settle the anxiety in Genji’s heart. It was then that he wondered why he’d felt it at all. Did he really want vengeance against Hanzo so much that the possibility of his assassination would hit him that hard? No, that didn’t seem familiar to him. Perhaps he still cared for Hanzo…but he didn’t know why, after what he’d done to him.

“You really don’t know?” Angela asked.

It was then Genji realized why they looked so sympathetic, why his father’s room had been so empty, why the guard commander was so determined to kill him.

“Someone killed my father,” he concluded aloud.

“Yes…they’re talking about it everywhere,” Angela replied softly, “if I’d known you were his son and that you hadn’t heard, I would’ve told you earlier. I’m so sorry, Genji.”

Genji folded his arms, releasing a sigh. As much as he would’ve liked to be sad about the death of his father, he couldn’t. He knew it was only a matter of time before one of his enemies would’ve acted. It was too bad he hadn’t known, however; otherwise, he would’ve gone straight to Hanzo’s room and might’ve avoided fighting Jack entirely. Things would’ve turned out differently that night.

“How did it happen?” Genji asked, “the assassination, I mean.”

“They believe he was killed in his sleep,” Zenyatta replied, “they found him in his bed, with an arrow in his chest.”

“They believe?”

“I have my doubts,” the airbender admitted, “the energy of the palace is unbalanced. I sensed great strife there, and hints of deception. I had expected to find more sorrow in the home of a family that had just lost one of its members. I can only assume there is more to this story.”

Genji cocked an eyebrow at him in disbelief. Angela, also looking curiously at the airbender, seemed as clueless as he was.

“What?” he asked flatly.

“It will take time to explain,” Zenyatta replied cryptically, “and time is something we will have in abundance during our travels.”

Genji’s arms dropped to his sides.

“What travels?”

“Did you think I was going to leave you here so you could keep trying to get yourself killed?” Angela asked, taking his hand again. She grimaced at the bloodied joints of his fingers and shook her head. “Zenyatta offered to take me to the Northern Water Tribe and I thought it would be a good idea for you to come with us,” she continued, “perhaps some time and distance will make you wiser. It would certainly allow you to grieve.”

“I’m not going to the North Pole,” Genji stated resolutely, “and I don’t need to grieve.”

“What else are you going to do?” Angela asked critically, eyeing him suspiciously. He looked away to avoid it. He wasn’t about to get into that mess just yet; his relationship with his father was too complicated.

Maybe she was right. The people in the palace needed some time to calm down after the assassination, and then his botched attempt at getting justice for himself. That, and he had to admit that spending more time in a pretty girl’s company was nothing to complain about. Allowing them to take him on their journey would certainly soften her frustration toward him. Perhaps their budding friendship could evolve into something more, given the chance.

And, of course, there was his lost friendship with Zenyatta. Although the specifics of their time together had slipped from his memory, he did remember enjoying it. It seemed like the perfect conditions under which he could get a glimpse of the world outside the confinement of the palace. He was in good company and his family wasn’t around to tell him what to do. He would be traveling as a commoner, free to see things for how they really were. He could always return to Hanzo later, when he and his guards would be least expecting it.

“Fine,” he breathed, feigning reluctance, “besides, you would be safer with me around.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Angela teased him.

“I’m serious,” Genji insisted despite the grin her change in attitude had brought to his face.

“I am sure our diverse talents will prove useful in the time to come,” Zenyatta commented happily, “we should all rest, for an early start in the morning.”

\---

Fire Lord Hanzo sat in his father’s former place in the council chambers, facing the elders as they addressed the breach in security the night before. Although he tried his best to look interested while they argued amongst themselves over who was most deserving of the guards’ time, he found himself unconcerned about the possibility of an assassin coming to the palace again. His commander had fought the assassin off before anyone else knew he was even there. It gave him a sense of security, but that wasn’t why he couldn’t make himself care. Why should he fear someone foolish enough to send an assassin after a dead man?

Hanzo was glad, at least, that the councilors had been distracted from the changes he was planning to make during his rule. After first hearing about his theories on how to reestablish relations with the other nations, they’d clearly begun to doubt him as a leader. Loosening the Fire Nation’s grip on the section of Earth Kingdom land his father had negotiated away was just a start. Families and friends would be reunited, and trade restored. Like the elders, he knew it was possible giving the people there such freedom could result in a revolution, but unlike them he knew the opposite was just as likely.

To Hanzo, that kind of power was something he was willing to lose. He was determined to be nothing like his father. He would allow the people to live as they chose, while keeping them safe with his influence and military. It was a change he knew Sojiro would’ve hated him for, and that pleased the part of him losing Genji had awakened, the rebelliousness he didn’t know he possessed. He wasn’t sure if he liked it yet…but it was exciting, to say the least.

Listening to the ramblings of the inflated egos sitting before him was _not_ exciting. He wished he could simply tell them to stop whining, to make them see no one was interested in killing a bunch of people with purely symbolic chips on their shoulders. Nonetheless, he knew their fear was understandable in the wake of two palace break-ins. They didn’t know what he knew. For that reason, he allowed them to vent their concerns to each other despite his reluctance to stay in their company.

After an hour of their cyclical discussion, he could take no more. He stood up, prompting them to stop talking immediately.

“I will assign an additional two guards to each of you,” he declared, “and Commander Morrison will see to additional precautions for the future. I hope, for now, that will help to ease your hearts.”

Although the fire lord could see his each of his elders wanted to ask for more, he knew his promise was more than sufficient. They must have known it as well, for none of them objected to his proposal. Satisfied, he left them to their own devices, followed closely by the commander.

Jack Morrison was at least half a foot taller than the fire lord he protected, a truly imposing sight in his variety of armaments and sharp commander’s armor. His armor was kept polished and in perfect order at all times, a reflection of his remarkable discipline.

Although his father had been the former guard commander, Fire Lord Sojiro had been on the brink of laughter when a twenty-year-old blond man with young, bright eyes had shown up to take his place. Any doubts associated with his appearance had been erased when he defeated each of his rivals, proving his mastery of every weapon in the Fire Nation’s arsenal. Seven years later, no one would even consider laughing at Commander Morrison.

At least, that’s how it had been before Sojiro’s death. The commander had accepted the failure as his own, despite what Hanzo knew to be the truth. As much as it bothered him to allow such a fine soldier to take responsibility for it, he could never reveal that truth. Since the assassination, Jack had been ever vigilant and at his side during every waking hour, determined to stop another fire lord’s life from slipping out of his care. It was that dogged determination that convinced Hanzo he was a man to be trusted, despite his growing mistrust toward most other people in the palace, the people who expected him to preserve has father’s way of doing things.

The prime subject of his mistrust had requested that they meet after the council disbanded. Akande himself hadn’t attended the security meeting, clearly unconcerned about the threat to his own safety. Of course, the other councilors weren’t nearly as powerful as he was.

As he headed toward the earthbender’s chambers, Hanzo realized he was glad to have Jack’s company there. It’d been apparent to him from the beginning that the two didn’t trust each other, having been on opposite sides of the war. The commander seemed to be the only person in the palace who shared his wariness of the clever foreign advisor, and that made him a future ally should that wariness prove warranted.

 When they arrived at the door to Akande’s personal chambers, Jack stepped forward to knock on the door for him. The councilor opened it to them, immediately frowning when he saw Jack standing in front of Hanzo. The commander moved to the side to let them talk directly, but stayed between them, looking alert as ever. Although he was clearly a foot shorter than the earthbender, he seemed unfazed when the taller man peered down at him through narrowed eyes.

“I had hoped we could talk privately, my lord,” Akande commented, his voice attempting to mask his obvious disappointment in Jack’s presence.

“Commander Morrison is my protector,” Hanzo replied resolutely, “and he can be discreet when needed. He will not disrupt us.”

“Very well,” the councilor relented, “in that case, will you both join me in the parlor?”

Hanzo and the commander followed him through the door, into his lounge where he had the fixings for tea assembled on a low table with cushions for the two of them to sit on. Jack took his place to Hanzo’s right while Akande poured him a cup. To the earthbender’s surprise, Jack reached down to take it and sniffed it before allowing it to go to his charge. Akande eyed him suspiciously.

“You cannot be serious,” he said.

“At a time like this, we can never be too careful,” Jack explained, his voice dutiful and lacking any hints of anger at being confronted.

“You think I would poison the fire lord in his own home?” Akande demanded, clearly offended.

“I’m not taking chances,” the commander insisted, still unfazed, as he moved back to his place by the fire lord’s side.

Hanzo restrained a smile while taking a sip of his tea. It was strong, just as he liked it, which prompted him to give the councilor a look of approval despite the awkwardness of their meeting up until that point.

“Proceed, Master Akande,” he said before taking another sip.

Akande spared another unappreciative glance in Jack’s direction before continuing: “it’s your security I wanted to address. I hope I can speak freely.”

Hanzo nodded his consent, pretending to put most of his attention on the tea to hide how carefully he was planning to listen. It was no secret that Akande and his father had been close, having enjoyed tea together often in the past. Hanzo had no doubt he wanted to continue maintaining his position as confidant to the most influential man in the nation. That meant a ploy was soon to come.

“Times have changed since your grandfather began his rule,” Akande began, raising his own cup in his hands, “ever since Avatar Mondatta was slain in the Avatar state the leaders of this world have been scrambling to maintain balance without him. Unfortunately, they don’t all agree on the definition of that balance. It has made the political scene dangerous.”

Hanzo was well aware of that reality, demonstrated by the war his grandfather had started after feeling his own domain should have been much larger in the name of balance. It was true that the Earth Kingdom was more expansive than the Fire Nation, but the Avatar had never made any attempts to change that, regardless of his or her birth nation. It was one of the many reasons Hanzo had never believed the war or its ‘favorable’ resolution to be just. Unfortunately, he was sure more conflicts were to come without the Avatar to maintain peace.

“While I do not doubt your own wisdom, I’m sure you are aware how unusual it is to have such a young fire lord on the throne,” Akande continued, “I fear it may make other rulers bolder. My influence in the courts of the Earth Kingdom will help us to keep your nation secure despite any perceived weakness. As such, I hope you might agree to heed my advice.”

“I plan to listen to every member of the council of elders,” Hanzo assured him, although he wasn’t confident in the truth of that promise, “do you not include yourself among them?”

“In most cases I do, but I’m sure we can agree my experiences give me a unique perspective on others,” Akande replied confidently, “and in this matter my opinion differs with that shared by most of the council.”

Hanzo nodded without looking up from his tea, feigning disinterest.

“And what matter is that?”

“My confidence in the abilities of your guard commander.”

Hanzo saw Jack shift out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t raise any vocal objections to being singled out. He avoided looking directly at him, instead focusing on the man sitting across from him, revealing his interest in the topic.

“I hope this is not because of his concern for my safety in your chambers,” Hanzo replied, “I would never blame a guard for being overly cautious so soon after an attempted assassination.”

Akande took a deep breath and let it out, shaking his head as he glanced at Jack.

“It’s not his attention that concerns me, merely his failure to defend your father from harm,” he explained, “while his prowess in battle is undeniable, we must examine his inability to perform his true function.”

There it was again, a chance to clear the commander of all guilt. All he had to do was tell the truth of what’d happened that night. Unfortunately, the consequences for his kingdom would be too severe. He couldn’t afford to weaken his own rule, not so soon after his coronation. It would have to remain a secret, at least for the time being.

“While what happened to my father is tragic,” Hanzo began carefully, “I do not hold Commander Morrison responsible. He was able to find and eliminate the second assassin before anyone could be permanently harmed. As such, I believe he has proven his usefulness.”

“That is the opinion the other elders hold,” Akande admitted, setting his cup down while concern wrinkled his features, “but it only takes one failure for a nation to lose its ruler. As you have yet to produce any heirs, it’s something we cannot allow. Without a descendent of the Shimada Dynasty to take your place, the nation would be thrown into chaos and fear.”

That’s right. Hanzo had never taken the time to realize that, with his father and brother gone, he was the last of the Shimadas. Soon, he would be pressured to marry and father children. He’d never even considered what that would be like. Despite the apprehension growing in his chest at that realization, he tried to remain outwardly calm. He kept his eyes on his cup as he calmly set it down, then flicked his gaze up to meet Akande’s, his resolution clear on his face.

“I trust Commander Morrison,” he stated confidently, “and as it is my safety at stake, that’s all that should matter. I will not search for a stranger to guard my life when there is someone more than capable already at my side.”

“My lord, I have tasted combat and I have led armies to victory,” Akande replied, just as resolute in his tone, “I know what makes a good leader and what leads to defeat. Your father trusted me to advise him on these matters. Will you not at least consider what I’ve said?”

Hanzo sighed as he stood up, clasping his hands together so they became hidden in the sleeves of his grand robes. At last, he had something to use against him.

“My father is dead, Master Akande,” he said gravely, “and so far my own wisdom has kept me from sharing his fate. I will not claim it was your counsel that led to his death, but for now I will choose my own path.”

It was clear by the widening of the earthbender’s eyes that he was more than simply displeased with Hanzo’s denial of his advances. Although the fire lord was aware he had based some of his judgment on his distaste for the man, it was ultimately his knowledge of the truth that gave him such confidence in the guard commander. Still, he couldn’t help but feel satisfied by the exchange and by the appalled expression it put on the councilor’s face.

“I apologize if I’ve caused offense,” Hanzo added politely, despite his clear lack of sincerity, before turning to head toward the door with Jack once again close after him.

It wasn’t until they’d made it into the hall that he allowed himself to smile, just a little bit, for his own benefit. He led the commander deeper into the palace, to the walkway above the courtyard, hoping it’d make them harder to track down should the earthbender have reason to search them out again. He wasn’t ready to set foot on the beautiful grass so soon after the loss of his brother, but he could at least enjoy looking at the garden’s serenity from above it. There, he let himself breathe, closing his eyes against the high noon sun.

\---

Commander Jack Morrison walked down the palace corridors as if he were on patrol, trying not to reveal his true purpose by moving too quickly. He’d gotten permission from the fire lord to attend to his commander’s duties, leaving his second-in-command at his chamber door while he meditated. It was only a half lie, one he considered necessary. Keeping his master safe was indeed one of his duties, but snooping could be considered a strain of that definition.

Jack waited around the corner from the entrance to Master Akande’s quarters, patiently. He knew the councilor would leave for the library as he always did in the early afternoon, giving him a window of opportunity. After a few minutes of waiting, he heard the door slide open. He instinctively shrunk back against the wall while the enormous earthbender walked past, unaware of his presence. Once he was in the clear, Jack slipped inside, unwilling to waste a second.

Although he’d been in Akande’s parlor only an hour earlier that day, he hadn’t gotten the chance to really look around. Surely, that would’ve caused more offense than could be simply excused away by caution.

The room was decorated like any other room in the palace, with dark browns and many shades of red. Most of the other guards or palace-dwelling nobles hadn’t given it a second thought, but they hadn’t fought in the war with the Earth Kingdom. He’d only been part of the war effort during the last few years of fighting, but he’d seen enough in that time to know some soldiers’ wounds couldn’t just heal away. Atrocities had been committed by both sides, their leaders too concerned with winning to monitor the actions of their lower-ranked officers and foot soldiers. It was the perfect opportunity for those with evil intentions to enact their depraved fantasies, a reality he’d had to face with his own legion commander.

It was that reality that caused him to doubt Akande’s loyalty to his master and the Fire Nation. The earthbender had been celebrated as a hero for his service, but only Jack had seen his true colors in battle. He was a brutal man. He’d crushed the bones of anyone who got in his way, even the weakest and most frightened of young soldiers. Jack became certain of his disdain toward him when he saw him kill a young woman who was acting as a nurse in a camp his unit had attacked.

That sort of brutality didn’t just go away, nor would his reasons for being so. It’d been ten years since peace had been declared, but it was unlikely he could simply embrace the Fire Nation after fighting it so zealously. Jack had been unable to act on his suspicions during Fire Lord Sojiro’s rule due to the trust between them, but it was a trust the new fire lord clearly didn’t plan to adopt. At last, he had a chance to put his worries to rest…or prove them right.

As he thought back over the war, the commander unconsciously put his hand over his abdomen, where the largest of many scars he’d received in the fighting hid underneath his clothing. It’d been a long time since the war, and Akande showed no signs of recognizing him from their first meeting, as memorable as it was for him. Then again, he could have easily been covering that up, too. It would certainly explain why he clearly disliked him.

Jack searched quickly, but methodically as he made his way through the parlor. He peeked under cushions, in small boxes, behind bookcases, under tables, anywhere he thought someone might try to hide a secret. All he needed was some sort of evidence. Unfortunately, he didn’t even know what he was trying to find. But there had to be something, somewhere.

After searching the parlor, he continued into Akande’s bedchamber where he checked under his bedding and in his wardrobe, running his hands along the walls of the closet to feel for anything out of the ordinary. He moved on to the large chest at the foot of the bed, which he flipped open quickly. He rifled through its contents, mostly more clothes and nobles’ accessories, until he could reach the bottom. He felt around it to no avail. Perhaps the wood was a little rougher than the sides, as if it hadn’t been polished in a while. Normally he wouldn’t find it so odd, but he couldn’t afford to miss anything.

Determinedly, he reached his hand down the side of the chest to the corner there it met the base and tried to dig his fingernails into the crack between them, but he couldn’t make anything happen with the weight of all the clothes on top. Careful to keep everything stacked as it had been before, he lifted the clothes out of the chest and set them on the floor beside him. Finally, he reached back down to dig at the chest’s bottom.

After a little coaxing, the plank popped free and he was able to lift it. There was only half an inch of space beneath the plank, a space the earthbender had filled with folded papers. Jack reached in and shuffled them around to look for anything else before picking one out to unfold and read it:

_After the strain on our friendship, we may need to go our separate ways. I hope I can count on your support during this difficult time._

It was disappointingly vague, followed by something equally vague in different handwriting:

_I’m sorry to hear about your fight. I hope I can help you persuade your friend to reconsider the split._

Jack set the paper aside and read more of them, each one referring to some sort of difficult relationship between the original writer and an unnamed “friend”, asking for the help of other unnamed friends who responded in similarly indecipherable terms. The ambiguous nature of the letters told him they were meant to be secret, but he wasn’t sure if they were what he’d set out to find. For all he knew, Master Akande and some of his acquaintances were helping a friend with a secret lover, hardly the sort of plot he’d been hoping to discover.

Jack placed the letters back in the chest and returned its contents to their places, hoping he’d kept everything as he’d found it while he closed it again. Deciding not to push his luck, he hurried out of the bedroom and toward the parlor door. He stepped out into the hall, closing it behind him, and turned around to see Akande at the corner, looking at him. Damn.

“Commander,” he greeted him slowly, his tone understandably suspicious.

“Master Akande,” Jack replied, bowing his head slightly, “you should be happy to hear your chambers are secure.”

“Should I?”

“Yes; I’ve been checking everyone’s quarters,” the commander continued, his expression stony to hide his dishonesty, “the fire lord decided it was necessary after the security meeting today.”

“I’ve heard nothing of the sort,” Akande hissed.

“With all due respect, Master, you weren’t at the meeting,” Jack quipped back, refusing to back down.

Akande folded his arms, his brow furrowed, but smiled anyway.

“Well,” he began, his tone lighter, “I appreciate your diligence, _Commander_.”

Jack bowed his head again.

“Just doing my job.”

He proceeded on his way without a farewell, determined to keep from sounding cordial after the way he’d spoken about him earlier that day. He hoped, at least, that would lessen the ample suspicion the councilor must have been feeling toward him upon seeing him emerge from his chambers uninvited. Everything was back in its place, he told himself, trying to calm his racing heart as he headed back toward the fire lord’s quarters.


	5. Chapter Five

True to his lie, Jack had spent the rest of his afternoon checking the rooms of the palace’s other inhabitants. He hadn’t expected to find anything worrisome, but he’d been thorough nonetheless, assuring each room’s owner that it was all in the name of security. Unlike Master Akande, they seemed truly grateful for his diligence and he hadn’t found any other secret compartments full of letters.

He’d assumed that, judging by the short length of the notes, their recipients were close by, but whoever the earthbender was corresponding with might not have lived in the palace after all. That, or they had better hiding places.

It was getting dark by the time the commander had finished his rounds, securing his lie of an excuse should Akande decide to check. It was then he headed toward the servants’ quarters to find the person who’d delivered the earthbender’s letters for him. Disappointingly, none of the servants seemed to have any clue what he was talking about…which meant they were either innocent or being paid off. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the freedom to question them in earnest just yet.

As he started on his way back to the fire lord, yet again, he wondered if he should tell him about the letters he’d found. He didn’t think it likely that Hanzo would simply brush it aside, but he doubted either of them had enough information to make a formal accusation against Akande. It would, at least, reinforce the new fire lord’s caution, which was good.

Still, if he didn’t know what the conversation was about he doubted it would be wise to make something out of what appeared to be nothing. He just couldn’t get it out of his head.

Jack found himself slumped on the floor before his mind could register what’d happened. He blinked, trying to reorient himself, as he looked up to see Master Akande glaring down at him. He coughed, putting an arm over his stomach, where he must’ve been hit with something hard and strong. As he tried to get back up, he could hear the earthbender advancing on him.

The commander was on his feet before Akande got to him, but failed to react in time to stop him from grabbing his throat and shoving him up against the wall. As the earthbender squeezed, threatening to close his windpipe, Jack could feel himself being lifted off the floor by his assailant’s powerful arm. He gasped for air, trying to pry the enormous hand off his neck without success. His already dazed mind fought to make sense of what was happening while it became harder and harder to breathe.

When it was clear that he would die if he didn’t do something, his adrenaline finally kicked in, clearing his dulled senses. He slipped his knife from his bracer and stabbed Akande’s forearm with it, forcing the man to let go. Jack fell back to the floor, wheezing, but scrambled back up and turned around to face his enemy with his sword in hand.

It was then he got a clear glimpse of what it was he had to fight. Akande had shed his noble’s robes in favor of more practical fighting attire, a pair of dull green pants covered in an elaborate Earth Kingdom belt and foot wraps that were left open at the toes and heels, allowing him access to the ground. When the commander saw the great fist of rock that covered his right hand and lower arm, he realized why the single blow to his midsection had hurt so much.

“Done…playing games?” he asked between gasps, “guess you’re ready to…show the fire lord your true…colors...”

“I never liked political games,” Akande replied, advancing on him slowly, “but I shouldn’t have to tell a good soldier like you how tedious they are. It’s too bad we must be opposed; I could use a warrior like you…but at least I will have the honor of killing you.”

Jack wasn’t sure if he could win the fight, having been battered before he even knew there was a fight to be had, but he couldn’t risk failing. If he were killed, there would be no one to warn Fire Lord Hanzo of the danger. As much as it irked him to turn his back on a battle, he sheathed his sword and sprinted down the hall at top speed, choosing to act on the side of his duty rather than his pride.

He could hear Akande giving chase, but there were few people who could keep up with him. All he needed to do was get out of his sight and there’d be nothing to stop him. The corner was far, perhaps too far for comfort. He turned his attention to the window rapidly approaching. He was on the ground floor, he knew, which meant he would be in the courtyard if he leapt out the window and it’d allow him to take a shortcut to the fire lord’s chambers on the other side of the palace grounds.

Hoping he made the right choice, he leapt, rolling over his shoulder as he landed in the grass, and kept running. After jumping over a rock in his way, he heard something that made him stop in his tracks, a loud boom accompanied by the sound of falling debris. He looked back to see Akande launch himself out into the yard through a new hole in the palace wall, still partially hidden by a filter of rock dust. He cursed to himself before spinning around to keep sprinting.

As he ran, he silently dared Akande to use his earthbending to stop him. After a scene like that, his guards would turn the councilor into a pin cushion before he even knew how much danger he’d brought on himself. He looked up toward the walkway above in time to see one of his men pull an arrow from the quiver on his back. Perfect!

“Master Akande has betrayed us,” he called toward the guard after stopping to gesture back at his pursuer, “fire at will!”

 The guard fired, but not in the direction he should have. The arrow sped down at the commander, piercing his thigh. Jack cried out in pain as he fell to one knee, only momentarily stunned. He clenched his teeth and looked up again.

“What are you doing!?” he shouted incredulously.

The guard was drawing his bow again, still aiming in his direction, but didn’t fire. Jack glanced back to see Akande standing over him, the knife he’d stabbed him with in hand. He went for his sword, but couldn’t draw it in time to stop the enormous man from grabbing a fistful of his blond hair and yanking him back to his feet. He whipped the sword out of its sheath only half a second before Akande stabbed him in the back with his own knife.

Jack gasped and his sword slipped out of his grip and clattered against the stone walkway beneath him, useless. The earthbender released his hair, allowing him to collapse on the ground as blood gushed freely from his wound. He weakly reached back, feeling for the knife, but was losing his strength too quickly to do anything about it.

“Damn…you.”

The words gurgled out of his throat, barely audible. Akande stepped over his twitching form and kept walking, leaving him to bleed out into the fish pond’s waters beside him. Jack fought to stay conscious, his lips and fingertips growing cold from the loss of blood. He couldn’t let them get to his master…but he was starting to realize he couldn’t stop them anymore.

\---

Hanzo’s meditation was broken by a loud noise outside, like something very heavy breaking in a burst. Someone was shouting…it sounded like Commander Morrison? That couldn’t mean anything good. The fire lord leapt to his feet and pulled off the outer layer of his robes, giving himself more freedom to move, before hurrying to the door. He slid it open and peered outside to see Morrison’s second-in-command standing outside like he should’ve been, but he hadn’t seemed to react to the noise. It was suddenly quiet, then, and he didn’t see the commander anywhere.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Nothing, my lord,” the captain replied, strangely, “return to your chambers.”

“You don’t give me orders,” Hanzo growled at him, pushing past into the hall.

“My lord!”

Hanzo stopped to look back at the captain, alerted by his forceful tone. He had his hand on his sword’s hilt.

“Return to your chambers, my lord,” he repeated grimly.

“Or what?” Hanzo demanded, “will you use your sword against the fire lord?”

The captain’s features relaxed slightly, prompted by fear, and his hand left his hilt. It was clear he had only just considered how dangerous it would be to attack one of the most powerful firebenders in the world. Although he’d backed down, it was too late to calm Hanzo’s anger at being challenged by one sworn to serve him. He kicked, blasting the man down with a burst of flame, and paused only long enough to take his bow and quiver of arrows. Having been trained at his father’s request by the Yuyan Archers, he knew he could make good use of them.

Slipping the quiver on over his head, Hanzo hurried down the hall with the bow ready until he reached the door that led to the walkway over the courtyard. He stopped to carefully peek outside, knocking an arrow. There were a handful of guards around the perimeter of the walkway, all alert but none of them investigating the gaping hole in the far wall. Trying to keep from being noticed, he crouched and made his way to the railing where he could get a look at the yard below.

Aside from the broken wall, all seemed as it was supposed to be at first glance. Upon closer inspection, he noticed the fish pond had a strange red hue to it, then the trail of blood leading to a figure collapsed in the grass, unmoving. The person was dressed in his guards’ armor…no, it was grander. Commander Morrison! Why weren’t his guards trying to help him?

Hanzo heard the creak of a bow being strained and whipped around to loose his arrow into the neck of one of his archers. The man collapsed, firing his own arrow into the wall beside him. It was a coup, then. He didn’t have to wonder long before figuring out who was behind it. Unfortunately, there was no sign of Akande himself. Regardless, none of his treacherous guards deserved to live.

Hanzo remained crouched below the railing, waiting to make sure no one had heard him fire, before creeping down the length of the walkway. After proceeding a few more feet, he peeked up again to shoot, felling another guard before he knew he was there. This time, someone heard the man thump to the floor. Hanzo hurried further along when three guards down the way from him started to run toward him. Arrows began burying themselves in the wood of the railing as the two on the other side of the courtyard tried to bring him down.

An arrow whizzed past his ear, clipping it as it flew. Alerted, he pivoted and flung himself over the railing to land in the courtyard below. He backed up against the wall to hide from the guards above him and drew a third arrow, aiming in the direction of the two across the yard.

Channeling his chi into the hand that held the arrow, he released it. As it flew through the air, Hanzo burst the arrow’s head with the heat of his fire, causing the shards to scatter. The two guards were struck by the red hot shrapnel and fell, one toppling over the railing into the river below.

The fire lord heard a thump as someone landed beside him and jumped just as a sword swiped at his legs. Before landing, he blasted the guard with fire channeled through his foot. On the ground again, he whipped about to shoot a second guard out of the air. That meant there was only one left, somewhere above him, and it was unlikely he’d try to jump down after his comrades were cut down so easily.

Hanzo drew his bow and blasted himself upward with a powerful jet of flame, catching sight of the surprised guard just in time to shoot him before he could fall back to the ground again. In a matter of seconds, justice had been delivered. Akande was a fool if he thought he could take his palace from him, he thought.

The fire lord turned around and headed toward where his loyal commander had been struck down, but stopped while only halfway there; he wasn’t alone anymore. Hanzo looked toward the door leading back into the hall of the first floor to see Akande step outside, half of his right arm covered by a huge fist composed of hard rock. He didn’t want to imagine what it felt like to be hit with that mallet of a hand.

“How cold-hearted of you to kill your guards,” the earthbender mused aloud.

“A traitor deserves death,” Hanzo declared, drawing his bow.

To his surprise, Akande smiled at that. Before he could shoot, Hanzo felt a rock shift under his foot, causing him to lose his aim. He leapt aside before the earthbender could take advantage of his loss of balance and fired. The arrow hurtled straight for Akande’s head, only to be knocked aside by his fist. The arrow fell to the ground, broken in two by the force of the punch that’d knocked it out of the air.

In retaliation, the earthbender sprung himself forward with a jut of rock, his fist drawn back. Hanzo dropped to the ground in time to avoid being hit square in the chest by the heavy stone weapon, rolling away to stand. He jetted away from his opponent, drawing and aiming his bow while he flew through the air. To his surprise, Akande sprung up after him, blocking the arrow a second time with his weapon.

Hanzo slammed down on his back hard after being spiked into the ground by the earthbender’s follow-up. He struggled to breathe in while Akande fell toward him, ready to hit him again. Acting purely on instinct, he blasted himself backward and collided with the commander’s body next to the pond. The earthbender landed harmlessly and reoriented himself, ready to attack again.

Hanzo rolled to his feet, clumsily, while catching his breath. To his relief, the former councilor didn’t press the attack just yet.

“I’m almost disappointed,” Akande stated, “where is the fury I saw in the training hall? Perhaps it died with your father.”

The fire lord took in a deep breath, finally able, and tossed the bow aside to take his firebending stance. If he wanted a fight with fury, he was about to get more than he bargained for. Hanzo launched into the air and sent his energy down upon him, blasting him with a powerful torrent of flame that set the trees and flowers around him ablaze. He landed again, glaring at the tent of stone that’d sprung from the ground to protect his enemy as it glowed orange with heat. The tent burst outward, but he blocked the debris with a wave of his hand, sending molten pellets into the river.

Without waiting for a counter attack, Hanzo raised a sheet of flame between them, hiding himself from view while he prepared his dragon. Rocks whizzed past him as his opponent struck blindly through the sheet, pelting the wall behind him. The dragon sprung forth and burst through the sheet, causing it to dissipate. Akande defended himself with his stone fist while Hanzo directed the dragon to strike at him again and again until the fist collapsed from the heat. Akande shook his hand out, wincing from the burn.

Before the fire lord could finish him off, the earthbender shielded himself behind another wall of rock. Hanzo released his dragon and lashed at the wall with a stream of fire.

“How does my fury suit you now, traitor!?” he shouted while whittling away at his defenses with burst after burst. He finished it off with a forceful gust from his lungs, the fire blasting from his mouth to dissolve the wall completely.

Akande stood exposed at last, but looked cocky in the face of defeat, with a smarmy smile on his face. Hanzo hesitated, trying to predict what else he might have up his sleeve, but quickly decided it was time to end him. He channeled his chi into his hands, but couldn’t make them move toward him.

“What…?” he wondered aloud.

The fire lord soon realized he couldn’t move at all, aside from the slightest of finger twitches. He clenched his teeth as he strained against the invisible force that held him still. Akande was already starting to walk toward him when something forced him flat on the ground, keeping him there as he approached.

“What is this!?” he demanded, his joints convulsing as he battled his own muscles in an attempt to stand, “what have you done!?”

“A traitor deserves death, you said,” Akande reminded him haughtily. He grabbed hold of Hanzo’s tunic and hoisted him off the ground, his victim still unable to move. “It’s true,” he continued, “even if the traitor is you.”

“What are you talking about?” Hanzo managed to ask, despite his constricted limbs.

The earthbender grabbed the shoulder of his left sleeve and ripped it off, revealing the burn scar that started at his wrist and continued all the way up to his shoulder. As bad as it looked, the damage was purely cosmetic in nature.

“I know how you got this, and what you did to deserve it,” Akande explained, “but luckily for you, I am not as cold-hearted. I’m not going to kill you. Not yet, anyway.”

Hanzo’s memories of that night returned instantly. How would he have known about what his father had done to him, and what he had done in return? They were alone!

“I am not a traitor,” he growled at him, trying to reassure himself of the fact despite his doubts.

Akande smiled and returned him to the ground, where he was compelled to remain on his knees by the invisible force. The earthbender gestured to the right and Hanzo’s head followed the gesture against his will. There, he saw a thin woman with short red hair and cruel eyes of two different colors walking toward them, careful to step over the charred remains of the garden. She was dressed in a dark blue cloak with a fur-lined hood, held closed by her black belt. Her arm was outstretched in his direction, her long-nailed fingers spread like claws. Could she have been the one holding him?

“Allow me to introduce our lovely friend,” Akande said proudly, “her name is Moira O’Deorain. You two are about to become close.”

Moira came to meet them, stopping directly in front of the helpless Hanzo. With a flick of her wrist, his head was forced to face her again and her lips spread in confident smirk, the expression an eagle might make before tearing into a caught mouse. She kneeled in front of him so her eyes were on the same level as his. Hanzo refused to say anything that might encourage them, his pride already suffering from his inability to defend himself.

“I thought, perhaps, I wouldn’t get the chance to meet the fire lord,” she said, “thank you so much for giving that chance to me.” She pinched his cheek, teasing him. “And what a handsome little fire lord you are. Akande said you were difficult, but you seem gentle as a kitten to me.”

“Release me, witch, and you’ll learn just how gentle I am,” Hanzo hissed at her.

“A bit rude, perhaps,” Moira mused before placing her thumb against the fire lord’s forehead. “Now, this might hurt a little.”

Hanzo gasped and involuntarily let out a small, pained noise as he felt his energy draining. If he had control of his arms, they would have fallen limp, followed by the rest of his body. He felt his chi being pulled from him until there was nothing left, as if she’d taken a knife and severed one of his body parts. He felt empty, weak. As soon as she took the thumb from his skin, he collapsed to the ground, laboring just to breathe.

Wanting to fight, but unable to do much, Hanzo reached an arm out to grab a tuft of grass that’d survived the blaze, attempting to pull his body away from them. He didn’t have the strength to move more than an inch. Akande stepped a leg over him and knelt down to turn him face-up. His bare fist was the last thing Hanzo saw before blacking out.

\---

Hanzo woke with a start to find his movement restricted. His panic banished his grogginess instantly and he squirmed impulsively, only to realize his wrists had been tied together and secured to the headboard of the bed he was lying in. Despite the bonds, he was relieved to see he was no longer under the witch’s spell, relieved enough to stop struggling and look around.

He realized he was in his bedroom, tied to his own bed. Aside from the ropes holding him in place, everything looked as it should. However, nothing felt as it should. His ear stung from the knick of the arrow and his face and chest hurt from Akande’s blows, but none of those injuries felt nearly as bad as the emptiness inside him. Although he was rested and had his energy, something was missing in his body, mind, and spirit.

Despite the wrongness he felt, he tried to burn the ropes, unable to summon the smallest of sparks. Where was his chi? Why could he no longer feel the warmth of the dragon in him? As much as he hoped it was a momentary weakness, it showed no signs of dissipating over time. Something inside him was wounded, and it wasn’t just his pride.

Giving up on firebending for the moment, he struggled to pull his wrists free of the ropes, twisting and squeezing his hands as he tried to slip out. Although progress was slow, he knew he was doing it. He could only hope he’d remain alone long enough to finish.

It’d been several minutes before he heard someone in the hall outside. The door to his room slid open to reveal the last person he wanted to see at that moment. Moira had returned in the company of two guards. She walked to the side of his bed and smiled down at him.

“Good morning, your highness. Did you sleep well?”

“What have you done to me?” Hanzo demanded.

“It’s a little technique I came up with, after some very intensive research and testing,” Moira explained proudly, “not all of my subjects survived, but those who did could no longer bend. Exciting, isn’t it? It took me _years_ to learn how to do it without a full moon in the sky.”

“Undo it, now!”

Moira chuckled to herself.

“I only came here to make sure you were still healthy,” she replied, pressing on his bruised chest. He winced, but avoided making a noise. “You see, it’s important that everything seem normal, to keep the people calm and compliant.” She leaned down and pinched his ear, just below the knick. “That means they will need to see your face from time to time,” she continued, “at least, until the new order has been put in place.”

Hanzo ripped his wrist free of the rope and struck her in the cheekbone before releasing the other one and rolling off the bed. The two guards advanced on him, their weapons ready.

“Stop.”

Hanzo froze without meaning or wanting to, then was forced down on all fours by the curse. The guards relaxed and backed away. Moira walked over to him, holding her cheek with one hand and controlling him with the other. Her hand snapped up, forcing Hanzo to do the same.

“You don’t see it yet, do you?” she asked, her tone less flippant than it’d been before he hit her, “I’m a bloodbender. That means I can heal you…or just as easily tear you apart.”

Hanzo screamed when the knick on his ear grew, expanded by the blood that burst from it and splattered on the plank floor. He felt himself get released and fell on his shoulder, holding his ear while it continued to bleed.

“I could drain you right now through that tiny cut,” Moira continued, her voice harsh and sinister, “but as I said, we still need that pretty face of yours. Help him up, boys.”

The guards picked the fire lord off the floor and slung him back onto the bed where they held him down. Moira placed her hand over his chest. Through the fabric of his tunic, he could see it begin to glow blue. She was a waterbender…perhaps that was what she meant by “bloodbender”. He’d never heard of something so distasteful.

The woman soothed the pain in his bruises, and even sealed up the cut in his ear before stepping back again, signaling for the guards to release him.

“If you behave, we won’t need to tie you down again,” she told him haughtily, “but if you cause a fuss, we might have to move you to the dungeon. I hope you won’t push us to that.”

Hanzo remained on the bed, but sat up to face her, glaring. He certainly wouldn’t try anything while she was nearby. If there was a way to counter her foul bending, he had no clue what it would be…but he would find out. Without waiting for him to answer, Moira left the room, leaving her two guards there to watch him. Hanzo waited, but they showed no intention of leaving. It was just as well; he didn’t need his bending to fight them.

Just for good measure, the fire lord continued to wait until the guards showed signs of relaxing. Their shoulders began to slump, they began to look at things other than the person they were charged with guarding, they fidgeted in their spots…all indications that if there was a time to act, it was then.

Hanzo leapt into action by knocking the closest of the guards against the wall behind him with a swift kick. The second guard swung at him with the sharp end of his spear, but Hanzo ducked under it and jumped at him to knock him down as well. Once on the floor, he went straight for the guard’s exposed eyes, scratching them with his nails so he could get away while the man writhed in pain.

The first guard was on his feet by then. He slashed at Hanzo with his sword, forcing him to back away as he continued to slash, over and over, each attack getting a little harder to dodge as he adjusted to the fire lord’s speed. As part of a desperate gambit, Hanzo leapt forward and rolled toward the spear the second guard had dropped. Before he could lift it, the guard held it down despite his wounded eyes, giving his partner the chance to kick the fire lord to the floor. He continued to kick, first his abdomen, then his face, beating him for his attempt to escape.

Hanzo clenched his limbs tight around his body, attempting to shield his face with his arm while the second guard joined in, pounding his back and legs with the hard toe of his boot. He grunted painfully with each hit, but didn’t dare leave himself exposed to more serious harm while trying to fight back.

His eyes closed, he was unable to see what hit the floor beside him, but it sounded heavy and limp. The guards had stopped kicking him, allowing him to open his eyes. He looked up to see someone slice one of the guards and he fell to join the first, both of them dead on the planks.

He stared curiously at his savior, who was dressed in common Fire Nation clothing with his head covered in a cap and a mask over his nose and mouth, hiding his identity from him. The visor of the cap kept a shadow over his eyes, making him even harder to recognize. The mystery person, clearly a tall man, slid the sword he’d used under his belt and reached down to offer his hand to him. Hanzo took it, allowing the man to pull him to his feet.

“Who--?”

“Not now,” the man interrupted him, putting a finger to where his lips would be.

Hanzo decided silence was probably the best, anyway, and didn’t protest at being told what to do. The man turned around and headed for the door, gesturing for him to follow. The fire lord started after him, but paused to grab the bow and quiver off one of the slain guards, nodding at his rescuer. The man nodded back and they proceeded into the hall. Hanzo stepped carefully over a guard who’d been cut down in the middle of his patrol, no doubt by the man he was following, hopefully to safety.

The two of them proved to be skilled enough to carve their way through the average palace guards. Ironically, it seemed to Hanzo that Akande’s men had killed the only guard who might’ve been capable of stopping their escape. He started to have doubts about his rescuer when he realized they weren’t headed toward the gate, but kept quiet, hoping he wasn’t making a mistake by trusting him.

The man led him into the training hall where Hanzo got his first glimpse of the sun. It was morning, a short time before noon. He had no way of knowing precisely how long he’d been unconscious. The hall was how he’d left it, aside from strange rectangular hole in the wall he’d never seen before. His savior gestured for him to go through, which he did after a brief period of hesitation. The man followed him before turning around to turn a heavy crank on the inside of the tunnel beyond the hole. As Hanzo watched, the way slowly closed, hidden behind a false panel he’d never known existed.

Puzzled, but unwilling to risk speaking lest they be caught, Hanzo said nothing as the man grabbed a torch he must’ve left on the floor and gestured for him to keep following. Hanzo sighed quietly and trailed him through the secret tunnel. After several minutes of walking in silence, he could see daylight ahead.

As much as he wanted to feel reinvigorated by the sun’s light, his spirit remained empty and his bending disabled. Emerging into the rays, he felt nothing other than the normal warmth that came from its energy. Perhaps that was the most disconcerting of all.

They’d emerged into a thick part of the forest near the capital, absent of any paths or signs that might indicate their exact location. It made sense for a secret tunnel to have a secret exit, Hanzo admitted to himself, but it didn’t make sense that such a tunnel existed and only the mystery man seemed to know about it.

“We’ll be safe out here,” the man told him, dowsing the torch in dirt.

“Who are you?” the fire lord asked, his arm ready to pull another arrow from the quiver on his back.

The man looked up and pulled his cap off, revealing a generous head of blond hair and two blue eyes. Hanzo felt his spirits lift, if only just slightly, at the sight. He allowed his arm to relax.

“Commander!” he exclaimed, “why didn’t you just tell me? Why the secrecy?”

Jack proceeded to pull the mask off his face and walked over to a tree, where he’d hung a bag on a knot. He put the mask inside, then slung the strap over his shoulder and turned to face the fire lord.

“They took me out to bury me,” he explained, “must’ve thought I was dead. It’s good this way. If they think you escaped alone, they’re less likely to use deadly force pursuing you. I hear they want you alive.”

“It appears so,” Hanzo replied, glancing back toward the tunnel, “I thought you were dead too…I saw the blood.”

“Almost was,” Jack said, shaking his head, “but I guess the servants aren’t as treacherous as the rest. When they realized I was alive, they helped me.” He gestured toward the shaft they’d used to escape with a jut of his head. “My father told me about this old tunnel, built a century or so ago,” he continued, “it was meant to help the fire lord escape in case of an invasion. Guess it served its purpose.”

Hanzo nodded absent-mindedly. He wished he could feel nothing but relief at having Jack at his side again and being free from Akande and his witch, but he still felt wrong. He looked up again to note Jack was avoiding his gaze, focusing instead on the extinguished torch in the dirt.

“What is it, Commander?” he asked.

“It was my failure, my lord,” Jack said, “there must’ve been signs, but I was blind to them. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let this happen.”

“I was just as blind as you,” Hanzo replied, feeling the anger build in him.

It was a hollow anger without his bending to respond to it. He didn’t know how he’d ever feel right again. Trying to push it aside, he started to walk with no destination in mind. Jack hurried after him before taking the lead.

“We just need to make it to the ferry,” he said, “once we’re off the archipelago I know a few places we can go. I have friends who might be able to help us out there.”

“Help us in what way?” Hanzo asked pessimistically.

“We can hide with them for a while, if nothing else,” the commander replied despite his master’s apparent lack of faith, “but if all goes well, they might even help us fight back. One’s a skilled warrior, the other a powerful waterbender. I’m sure we can use them.”

Hanzo said nothing, still distracted by his emptiness. It was nice that Jack was already thinking of ways to retake the palace, but what use would it be? Without his firebending, he was hardly a fire lord. He couldn’t carry his family’s legacy into the future if he didn’t have it to begin with. He could only hope there was a way to reverse what the bloodbender had done. Otherwise, he was useless to the Fire Nation.

\---

Master Akande glared at the two dead guards in the fire lord’s chamber, one missing his bow and arrows. They’d robbed Hanzo of his bending, but he was still a threat with a bow, as he’d seen himself the day before. Capturing him again wouldn’t be easy.

He wished it was otherwise, but he needed him while he secured his hold on the rest of the Fire Nation. If those outside the palace found out about the coup, they could easily revolt and take it back, especially with how many guards had been killed by the missing fire lord.

The earthbender took his eyes off the dead guards when he heard Moira come in. She clicked her tongue at the sight, shaking her head.

“Perhaps we should have left him to bleed,” she suggested lightly.

“Next time, we will,” Akande promised, turning toward her, “for now, we will simply claim the fire lord has taken ill and is not fit to be seen. It should give us the time to track him down.”

Moira nodded her agreement.

“And what about the other one?” she asked, “if the fire lord’s brother were to come back from the dead, he could be just as dangerous.”

Akande headed toward the hall, closely followed by his partner in crime.

“We don’t need to worry about that fool,” he assured her, “I have already set my plans for him in motion.”

 


	6. Chapter Six

Genji braced himself in the saddle as Zenyatta’s flying bison companion, Iris, quickly descended toward the Foggy Swamp. The sun was setting above them, leaving behind harsh orange light which seemed to disappear immediately when they reached the swamp trees’ canopies. As unwelcoming as the gigantic, slimy trees and green, murky water appeared to be, Genji was glad they hadn’t landed in another village.

He’d been careful to keep quiet whenever they stayed in villages, unsure how the inhabitants would react should any of them find out he was a firebender. He knew it wasn’t likely he’d encounter open hostility, but he didn’t want to take any chances. Even if he won a fight against an earthbender, he’d hate to have to spend the next few years in an Earth Kingdom prison, unable to go back the Fire Nation and challenge Hanzo.

Aside from the caution he’d grown tired of exercising, he was more concerned about his inability to train while they remained in a settlement. Every night they’d made camp in the wilderness, he’d put distance between himself and the others to practice his bending openly. He was determined to be as powerful, if not more powerful than his brother the next time they fought.

Zenyatta directed their wooly friend to land on a tangle of exposed roots that would keep them high above the water line. As Genji took a step on the roots, he felt the squish of moisture in the gathered moss. The airbender had warned them this night would be difficult, but he hadn’t realized just how difficult until then.

The prince stepped away from Iris’s side to find a spot large enough to accommodate his bedroll, then knelt to press on the spongey substance that coated almost everything in sight. It’d be soft, but wet. He grimaced visibly, looking toward the others. Angela, also squishing in the moss, put her hand to her chin, thinking.

“Let me see what I can do,” she murmured before bending her knees slightly and holding her arms out, her palms facing the roots.

She moved her arms slowly and fluidly, her limbs mimicking the serene flow of a calm brook. Genji watched the shine of the moss shift as the water that saturated it gurgled away from him and began to gather in a hollow toward the edge of the root platform they stood on. Water began to fill the hollow, creating a small pool. Although the water was clearly dirty, it wasn’t nearly as green or oily as the swamp beneath them.

Genji knelt down again and pressed the moss to find it was almost dry, smiling up at her. She nodded at him as she released her stance, but didn’t say anything. She’d been quiet toward him since they left the Fire Nation and he was almost certain he’d done something wrong…if only he knew what it was. Zenyatta, on the other hand, grinned cheerily.

“Well done,” he said, “you’ll be a fine student when we reach the North Pole.”

“I hope so,” Angela replied, “I hear they can be strict there.”

“Perhaps,” the airbender agreed, “however, your chances of finding a good teacher are higher now than they might’ve been a several years ago.”

Angela sighed, relieved, and sat down in the moss.

“Did something happen back then?”

“It was…fifteen years ago, I believe,” Zenyatta replied, crossing his legs after he found a spot to relax on, “in that time, only Northern Water Tribe boys were taught to truly use their abilities.”

“That’s unfair,” Genji offered, sparing a furtive glance in Angela’s direction to see if she approved. She didn’t even look at him, to his dismay.

“Indeed,” Zenyatta continued, “that was the opinion a particularly tenacious waterbender shared.” He tapped his index finger over his lips while staring up at the tree’s trunk, pursing his lips in thought. “What was her name?” he wondered to himself, “Ani? Ana?” After taking a few seconds to ponder, he shrugged. “She was slightly older than you are now. She must’ve trained elsewhere, for she was able to defeat the resident master in a duel. Due to her insistent nature, the rule was changed. Quite lucky for you, isn’t it?”

“How do you know so much more about the Northern Water Tribe than my people do?” Angela asked, smiling amusedly.

“You could say I embody the nomadic origins of my own people more literally than the others do,” Zenyatta replied, smiling back, “I’ve seen and learned much in my travels. It is my hope that I might use this knowledge to restore harmony to our world, as Avatar Mondatta tried to do twenty years ago.”

Angela nodded, hugging her arms around her body.

“You think that if we all understand each other more we won’t fight as much,” she concluded.

“Precisely,” Zenyatta chirped, “unfortunately, I don’t know if I can make my dream a reality without a longer reach.” His shoulders perked up suddenly, then he looked at Genji and cocked his head. “Ah, but I may yet acquire the help of someone with that reach,” he proposed, “a prince, perhaps?”

“Huh?” Genji grunted, suddenly brought into the conversation, “me?”

“When we were younger we had many lofty dreams,” Zenyatta replied, nodding slowly, “we were powerless to make them come true, but now, you are second only to the fire lord in your home nation.”

“Is this why you wanted me to come along?” Genji grumbled unappreciatively.

“I wish I could take credit for such clever planning, but it was not my original intention,” the airbender admitted, “however, the fact remains that our meeting again could lead to something greater.”

Genji didn’t readily agree to his proposal, but wasn’t about to dismiss it either. He hadn’t put much thought into what he’d do after he’d delivered justice. Perhaps after his business with Hanzo was completed, he could try to bring lasting peace. It seemed like a lot of work, but his father would’ve been against the idea due to his prejudices. That gave it a certain appeal.

He realized he’d taken too long to respond when Angela spoke up, “I’m not sure starting with the Fire Nation will be the most effective. They are known for aggression, not understanding.”

It was too blatant a jab to be missed. Was that what had angered her about him? It didn’t make sense; he’d never shown aggression toward her, at least not since they first met. She’d forgiven him for that outburst, hadn’t she?

“Actually, I’d love to help,” Genji interjected defiantly, “it sounds like a noble goal.”

To his surprise, Angela finally looked at him, her eyes wide in what looked like pleasant surprise. Genji tried not to let his excitement show too visibly.

“I don’t know how we could start, but we can think about it while we’re traveling,” he continued, encouraged by the response he’d gotten, “then, after I’ve dealt with my brother we can make it real.”

Angela’s smile vanished immediately and she stood up, patting the moss off the back of her dress.

“I’m going to look around a little bit before the light is gone completely,” she told them.

“It could be dangerous,” Zenyatta warned her.

“I’ll be careful, and I won’t go far.”

With that, she went to the root’s edge and swept her arms upward to pull a column of water from the swamp below. She hopped, gingerly, from the top of the column to the next root cluster and was soon on her way as the column collapsed back into the water beneath it. Genji huffed out a frustrated sigh and crossed his arms, leaning against the trunk behind him.

“Perhaps you should ask her,” Zenyatta suggested after several minutes of silence.

“What?”

“Ask her,” the monk repeated, “it’s clear something has caused strife between you two. She claims those from the Fire Nation are incapable of understanding. Will you not attempt to change her mind?”

“How would I do that?” Genji grumbled pessimistically, “she’s probably angry I yelled at her, or something else I don’t know about. If she refuses to try understanding me, I will accomplish nothing by trying to understand her.”

Zenyatta chuckled as he put his hands on his knees, palms up in a meditating position.

“Thinking that way will accomplish even less,” he replied, “do what you will, Genji; I will remain here with Iris, regardless of your decision.”

Genji frowned at him, but he didn’t react. He didn’t know if he was being watched, as Zenyatta’s incredibly narrow eyes always seemed to be closed, but he tested it by waving his hand with no response. Clearly, he was too busy with some sort of spiritual pursuit. Genji had never understood meditation. Quietly, he stood up, hoping not to attract his attention, and began to slink away in the direction Angela went.

“Take care,” Zenyatta said from behind him, startling him. The prince looked back to frown again. “The swamp can be treacherous,” the airbender concluded with a cheeky smile.

Genji grumbled to himself as he propelled himself after Angela, landing on the root shelf to sulk away. Thanks to the mushiness of the moss, the girl’s footprints were preserved for him to follow. To his surprise, he located her just out of sight of their camp, sitting on a dried patch of root. She was holding her head in her hands, absent-mindedly kicking her feet while she watched a catgator slowly meander through the murk below. He approached quietly, but not so quietly that he’d sneak up on her, and crouched beside her.

“What is it, Genji?” she asked without turning her head.

“Do I really anger you so much?” he asked, trying not to sound annoyed he had to pose the question.

“I’m sorry,” the girl replied, sighing, “I simply made the mistake of forgetting your nature. I shouldn’t blame you for failing to meet unrealistic expectations.” She nodded at him. “You can go back to camp. I’ll return when I’ve calmed myself.”

Genji shook his head and sat down.

“What expectations?” he persisted, hoping Zenyatta was right about the benefit it would all have on their relationship.

“You’ll think I’m silly when I tell you,” Angela grumbled.

Genji shrugged and looked down to see the catgator gazing up at them curiously. As fearsome as they seemed, he knew they were harmless to humans. That was one part of his Earth Kingdom lessons he’d actually paid attention to. He smiled at it, then turned the smile toward Angela, hoping it would loosen her lips.

“Maybe I’ll think you’re silly for not telling me,” he joked. Despite his hopes, she didn’t smile back.

“I thought you might’ve been different,” Angela admitted quietly.

“Different?”

“From your grandfather, from your father….from any other firebender whose aggression has caused suffering,” she explained quickly. Genji subconsciously leaned away from her upon hearing that. “The Avatar was able to keep the world balanced despite the aggression, but without—,“ Angela stopped that thought abruptly and shook her head, “I’m sorry, I’m not saying you’re bad because you’re Fire Nation, but fire is so destructive in nature. How can I expect you to defy that?”

“But I apologized,” Genji argued, starting to feel offended by her assumptions about him, “I apologized and you forgave me.”

“Apologized for what?”

“For snapping at you when we met!”

“That’s not what I’m talking about!”

Genji folded his arms tightly, trying to release the angry tension building in him by squeezing his own biceps. He’d raised his voice again. He had to control it if he wanted to prove her wrong.

“Then,” he began slowly, very careful to control the volume of his voice, “what are you talking about?”

“No matter what we’re talking about you’re always so focused on getting revenge,” Angela cried incredulously, “you haven’t told me anything about what you and your brother fought about, but I can’t ever imagine wanting to _kill_ a member of my family! If that isn’t a display of aggression, what is?”

“He tried to kill me!” Genji exclaimed, “I thought we already talked about this.”

“We talked, yes, but nothing was resolved,” she retorted, “your brother tries to kill you, you try to kill him. It’s tragic, Genji! If you can’t even resolve a conflict with your own blood through understanding and peace, how are you going to patch this world back together without starting another war?”

“Tch,” Genji hissed through his teeth. He unfolded his arms and leaned back on his hands. “I’m not like my father, or even his father,” he stated, “how I’m going to deal with Hanzo’s betrayal has nothing to do with it.” He glared at the swamp ahead of him. “Besides, for someone so in favor of understanding, you’re very quick to judge me.”

Angela sighed and stood up.

“You’re right,” she said. Surprised, his eyes widened. He’d expected more of an argument against his fair point. “That’s why I came out here,” she continued, “I want to like you and be your friend, but I can’t until I let myself think. I’m going to keep hoping you’ll change, but I’ll try not to let it bother me too much if you don’t.” She shook her head to herself, avoiding his gaze again. “If we must travel together, we should at least get along. I would never think to ask Zenyatta to leave you behind.”

Genji’s heart felt tight in his chest. He wanted the same things she did, but he couldn’t just let Hanzo get away with what he did to him. Perhaps he mentioned it too much in her presence. Perhaps she would soften toward him if he never said anything about it again. Everything would be right once he had his vengeance. He’d never have to think about it again, and she would never have to be bothered by it. All he had to do was keep it buried until his chance came.

Decided on it, he stood up. Cautiously, he put his hand on her shoulder, ready to remove it if it wasn’t well-received. She looked at him instead of pulling away, to his relief.

“Maybe you’re right,” he fibbed, “and maybe I just need time to think like you do. I want to be your friend, too. Can we try it?”

“I’d like that,” Angela replied, finally giving him the pretty smile he’d been yearning to see again.

“Good,” Genji chirped happily, “let’s go back now. I’ll start a fire to dry us off.”

Angela laughed to herself.

“Well, I suppose fire isn’t _only_ destructive,” she admitted quietly.

Together, the prince and the waterbender started back, returning to their root cluster using the same methods they’d employed to leave it. Genji found himself finally feeling optimistic. Of all the women he’d met during his life, Angela was the first one he’d genuinely considered courting. Not dating, like he’d done with the nobles in the Fire Nation capital, but an actual pursuit of her long-term affection. He didn’t know why, given she was so challenging to please, but going back to the noblewomen at home seemed boring to him after spending so much time with her. He knew he would have to be on his best behavior. No more talk of vengeance, ever.

Zenyatta was sitting where he’d been before Genji left, in the same meditating position. Leaving him to his spiritual business, the prince began to gather twigs in a pile, then picked his sword off Iris’s saddle and went over to the enormous tree’s trunk, pulling the blade from its sheath.

“Stop.”

Genji froze and turned around to look at Zenyatta, who had moved his hands but remained sitting. “Use only what you can find around here,” the airbender told him calmly, “you must not harm the trees or any other part of this swamp.”

“Why?” Genji asked, “they are only trees.”

“Zenyatta, if we don’t stay warm and dry we may become ill,” Angela contributed, “especially in a place like this.”

“Soggy as we are, I hope you will trust me,” the monk replied, “there is power in this swamp, and it is not without its protectors.”

Despite his doubts, Genji knew Zenyatta had to be just as uncomfortable as he was, so he must’ve had his reasons for stopping him. With a sigh of resignation, he continued to collect more twigs and assembling them in a teepee. The moss was too water-logged and there was no other source of kindling in sight, but starting fires was hardly a challenge for a firebender.

Genji got down on his knees, facing the twigs, and tried to concentrate on them alone. Simple as it might’ve seemed, he knew starting a flame so small would require control. He directed his energy into the tip of his left index finger before releasing it with a point toward the makeshift fire pit. He sustained the flame, waiting for it to catch on the moist wood.

Finally, he backed away with a smile. It was a small campfire, hardly big enough to light the dim swamp around them, but if Zenyatta was right it was all they could have. After sharing a light supper around the small flame, the group of four settled in for the night.

\---

Genji woke with a start when he heard someone hiss his name. He sat up and looked around, using the meager light provided by their dying fire to peer into the darkness. There was no one near him, but he could’ve sworn whoever had said his name whispered it directly in his ear. It must’ve been the humidity. He couldn’t remember ever trying to sleep somewhere so wet. Using his abilities, he carefully channeled heat into his bedroll, attempting to purge the moisture from the fabric.

“Genji!”

The prince gasped involuntarily. That was a shout, unmistakably.

“Come here, now!”

Genji looked toward the others to see they hadn’t so much as stirred in their slumber. He hadn’t known either of them to be such heavy sleepers, but there was no arguing with his own eyes. He got off the ground and held his palm out, summoning a ball of flame to hover above it. It cast light throughout the swamp, causing more than a few night creatures to recoil back into the black.

“Genji!”

This time, he was listening for the shout. It sounded familiar, but inconclusive, as if it was coming from a great distance away, despite its volume. He started off in the direction he thought it came from, carefully climbing over and under protruding roots, swatting large swamp bugs away from his face when they were attracted by the light. Following the voice that alternated between shouting and whispering his name, he traveled well into the night until he came across a mossy root shelf that appeared almost dry. He thought he saw something, but the flame he held kept it dim and indiscernible. Despite his reluctance to be left in the dark, he extinguished his light and squinted at the faint, flickering blue glow. Was that a crackle he heard? Perhaps another camp?

Genji proceeded ahead carefully until he could see where the glow was coming from. It appeared to be illuminating a clearing composed of a dense moss shelf suspended between three of the great trees, the source of the glow hidden behind one of the trunks. He crept around it cautiously, one hand ready to shoot flame at any perceived threat. What he saw disarmed him completely.

In the middle of the clearing circled a dragon of blue flame, swirling protectively around someone crouched in the center. The person was clearly male, doubled over on his hands and knees, but the swirling flame kept him from seeing who it might be. Upon his approach, however, the dragon’s flame head turned to look at him. Genji backed up instinctively, but the dragon sped away, eventually disappearing in a hiss as it collided with the moist moss coating one of the tree trunks. To his displeasure, Genji was finally able to identify the individual who must have been calling him from such a great distance.

“Hanzo!” he growled, “what the hell are you doing out here?”

It was his brother, plain as day, but his voice had sounded so wrong, and his presence in the swamp unexplained. Was he dreaming, perhaps? It felt so real.

“Help me, Genji,” Hanzo replied, his voice once again sounding far off and…constricted, even. As confusing as the situation was, Hanzo’s request filled the younger prince with rage, driving away any desire he’d felt to explain it all.

“You tried to kill me!” he shrieked, “help you?” He ripped the scarf from his face, revealing his deeply scarred features. “This is what you did to me! I should throw you into this swamp and watch you drown!”

Hanzo, who had been near to collapsing while holding himself up on all fours, looked up at him, his face contorted in pain. As angry as he was, Genji felt the slightest pang of worry. Disappointed in himself, he tried to banish it by dashing toward his brother, poised to attack.

“Please, Genji,” Hanzo pleaded just as his brother reached him, leaping to bring his hands down like a blade slicing through the air. Fire erupted from his hands in a powerful arc, crashing down on Hanzo’s crouched form in a blaze.

Breathing heavily in his fury, Genji stood back to observe, certain Hanzo must have found some way to blast himself to safety. Expecting to be annoyed, his anger flickered as he looked down upon the motionless form of his older brother. He hadn’t escaped his attack? How was that possible? Hanzo had always been able to avoid his bending attacks, and Genji knew he hadn’t had enough time to train to match him yet. Had whatever wound Hanzo suffered been too grave? Has he actually succeeded in getting his vengeance? A confusing mixture of triumph and sorrow filled him.

Before Genji could confirm that he’d actually killed his brother, the body vanish in a series of blue wisps that looked almost like bright fireflies as they flitted away from him and disappeared into the night. The lingering blue glow that’d illuminated the clearing faded with them, leaving him alone in the night.

“Hanzo?” he whispered through clenched teeth, still doubtful it could’ve been a dream. Had he tricked him somehow? Was it a new trick he’d learned while training apart from Genji? He puffed a new light into existence, maintaining it over his left hand. Hanzo was actually gone, as was the blue dragon and the wisps.

Confused, Genji shook his head and closed his eyes. Some part of him must’ve been reluctant to fight Hanzo, sending this bizarre vivid dream to cause doubt. He cursed, blasting one of the tree trunks with a quick burst to relieve his pent up tension. He had to remain devoted to his cause! He couldn’t afford to fight with himself and lose his resolve.

He had just started back toward camp when he heard something rustle in the dark, sloshing as it moved through the water just a few feet below. He dismissed it as a catgator hunting for a late night meal and continued along what he could remember as the path back to the others. The sloshing continued, speeding up as he did.

“Hanzo!?” he growled, suddenly aware he’d given up too soon, “don’t be a coward! Show yourself and fight me!”

In response, an enormous shadow emerged from the gloom below, proceeding to tower over him and eclipse the dim moonlight that managed to filter through the dense foliage of the swamp trees. Genji brightened his flame to illuminate the new challenger. What he saw…wasn’t Hanzo at all. A creature made of moss loomed over him, two drooping arms raised to squash him. It was then he remembered what Zenyatta had said…the swamp had protectors! It wasn’t a dream, then! He had truly struck the tree!

Squaring himself for the fight, he held his arms ready in anticipation of the monster’s attack. As saturated with moisture as it was, he would burn the moss from the creature’s body and expose it for what it truly was…


	7. Chapter Seven

His attention focused on the enormous arms above him, Genji failed to react in time to stop the moss beneath his feet from slipping out from under him and flopping him face-first onto the root shelf. He blasted himself out of the way just as two mushy fists slammed down where he’d fallen and scrambled back to his feet to face the monster.

Realizing quickly that it must’ve had control over all the moss in the swamp around them, he looked around for a section that would allow him an even footing. Spotting a bare branch just above his head’s height, he jumped up at an opposing tree’s trunk and bounced himself off of it to land on the branch. He was almost at the monster’s level, then, and already felt a little safer. His confidence was met with a sudden jet of disgusting swamp water that knocked him out of the tree. He toppled head over heels before splorshing into the muck at the trees’ bases. Splashing frantically in an attempt to swim his fastest, he propelled himself toward one of the exposed roots that looked close enough to the water level to grab.

He reached out for it, only to find himself being yanked away from it, something slimy and slick wrapped around one of his ankles. Crying out briefly before his head was pulled under the murky water, he reached around rapidly in all directions, trying to find something to grab and pull himself out of the moss’s grasp. To his relief, he found himself being slung back into the open air just as his breath was running out…only to be thrown several feet above the monster’s head.

Panicked, he cried out when he first realized what had happened. Fighting to focus, he tried to right himself in the air with a quick upward burst from the balls of his feet. Although it’d sent him that much higher, he could finally make sense of which direction was up. Thinking quickly, he grabbed for an outstretched branch as he began to fall back down toward the monster and managed to stop himself from tumbling back into its range. Pulling himself up to perch on the branch, he looked down to see the monster sloshing around beneath him, but it made no attempt to knock him down again.

At last, he had the time to pull his stolen sword free from the sheath he’d tied to his belt. In response, the creature wrapped the base of its mossy form around the trunk of the tree that supported his perch and began to slorp its way upward. Without waiting for it to reach him, Genji jumped off the branch with his sword raised and hurtled downward to slice one of its moist arms free of its body. He landed on the root shelf he’d started on and jumped out of the way as the mossy appendage splashed onto the roots next to him.

The monster wasted no time in lowering itself back down to his level, seemingly unfazed by the loss of its arm, and it wasn’t long before he realized why. The arm reformed itself, using the moss from the tree’s trunk, and attached itself to the main mass once again.

“That’s…wonderful,” Genji murmured unenthusiastically to himself, unsure what he would need to do at first. His brain kicked into overdrive, connecting the dots between the moss and the water that’d struck him down. The monster could control the swamp’s water, just as Angela could. Hoping that was what gave it its power, he switched his focus from his sword to his firebending. He wished he’d had more time to train before all this.

Summoning as much as intensity as he could muster in his breast and stomach, he waited for his opportunity to strike while the monster began to advance on him again. He’d never actually used what he planned to use in battle before…but he’d seen both Hanzo and his father unleash great power from their lungs, breathing fire like dragons. He knew he could do it without burning his throat, having practiced it before, and hoped it would work as he wanted it to, unwilling to sacrifice the use of his hands should the creature strike at him again. Channeling his chi into his neck, he let the fire burst forth from his chest and out through his mouth, keeping a sustained stream on the monster’s core to drive the moisture from its mossy form. He could feel the heat warm his damp clothing and chilly skin, helping its feeling to return. In the confusion of battle, he almost hadn’t even noticed how cold he was until then.

He stopped to take a breath and to avoid swipes from the monster’s arms, one after the other, before reorienting himself. He heard the creature’s moss crinkle as it moved, having been dried and partially charred by his energy. He summoned another light, the rising sun not yet high enough to illuminate their surroundings fully, and saw parts of the moss begin to crisp away from the creature’s center, exposing…skin? His attacker was human!

“Genji, stop!”

Puzzled, Genji paused to find the source of the voice. Zenyatta had arrived. In a quick gust, he bounced nimbly into the air before landing lightly between the prince and his enemy, his palms directed toward either of them disarmingly.

“What an unfortunate misunderstanding,” the airbender continued, “I apologize, Huu.” He turned to face the moss monster, bowing his head. “I warned him not to harm the swamp…but I assure you he bears neither it nor you any true ill will.”

Almost instantaneously, the moss monster slumped out of existence, an older-looking man in a loin cloth with a simple grin on his face left in its place. Genji’s arms went limp, his brow furrowed in confusion and…a little disappointment. There was a part of him that’d found the existence of a swamp monster to be really _cool_. But, he guessed, a guy being able to make one was pretty cool too, maybe.

“Ah,” the man breathed, returning Zenyatta’s respectful head bow, “I didn’t think you would be back to visit us for a few years, Master Zenyatta. And, you brought friends?”

“Zenyatta, what’s going on?” Angela cried as she approached the scene, wrinkling her nose just a little after seeing the state of Genji, “oh…my…”

It was then Genji really started to notice exactly how grimy he’d become after being tossed around the swamp. He turned away from her subconsciously, wishing, somehow, he’d had the opportunity to change before she saw him. He would’ve liked her to see him for the first time after a battle as…a victorious and honorable warrior, not covered in slime and muck.

“Angela, Genji, this is Huu,” Zenyatta explained calmly, as if Genji hadn’t just been nearly drowned, “he is the waterbending master who defends this swamp, and a good friend of mine.”

Genji looked from the mass of moss and vines at the man’s feet to the man himself…thinking. “A…waterbender…?” he murmured, glancing over at Angela, then back at Huu, trying to find the resemblance. There wasn’t one.

“Ah, then, we must have some common ancestors,” Angela chimed in happily, to his surprise, “I had no idea there were waterbenders living outside of the poles.”

“Most people don’t,” Huu replied, grinning, “but we’re always happy to meet our kin. Speaking of we, you three should come with me to meet the others. Even with a guardian, our swamp can be dangerous for outsiders…some people see things and wander into the wild.”

Despite his desire to ask for more information about how outsiders could “see things”, he didn’t dare bring it up with Angela around. She’d be furious if he mentioned he’d try to kill what must’ve been an apparition of his brother. But he didn’t want to make anyone else aware of his business. Maybe Zenyatta would know…and he, at least, seemed to understand why he had to do it.

Zenyatta chuckled in response to Huu’s offer, nodding. “I would love to meet the others again, and I’m sure Angela would enjoy the learning experience, hm?”

Angela grinned. “Oh, yes,” she answered enthusiastically, “meeting any waterbender is an event with so few in my home tribe.”

“Wonderful,” Zenyatta chimed before he turned to Genji to raise an eyebrow.

Realizing it was up to him, he shrugged. As much as he would’ve liked to leave the swamp and its natural stink behind, he’d at least learned not to be impolite from his interactions with the girl he was so intent on pleasing. And she was so excited, too…he’d expected someone as beautiful as she was to be a little more concerned with odor and grime. Another pleasant surprise, one that helped him to be a little less self conscious of how he must’ve smelled. He allowed himself to smile.

“I won’t say no to a hint of civilization,” he replied.

\---

Contrary, or perhaps, exactly in line with Genji’s expectations, the “civilization” their host called home barely fit the definition of the word. The Foggy Swamp Tribe was little more than a collection of tents and a few campfires. The people, however, managed to impress the prince despite his unintentional prejudice toward them.

The people of the swamp traveled on unsophisticated skiffs, powered solely by a form of waterbending neither he nor Angela had ever seen before. They got around quickly and easily, making it all look entirely effortless as they used vines and water manipulation to ascend or descend from the root shelves and branches around them, completely eliminating the need for ladders or stairs. His admiration for them, unfortunately, was cut short when he was invited to join them for a feast of what appeared to be mostly bugs and swamp vegetation. He avoided making any disgusted faces, but wasn’t eager to partake in breakfast. He avoided eating furtively with falsified smiles and by slipping the occasional bite-sized piece to the catgators the tribe kept around as pets.

He was glad, at least, to see Angela conversing with the tribespeople with such a big smile on her face. Although they spoke strangely, hard to understand at times, she was eager to learn of their waterbending style, and they seemed more than happy to teach what they could between mouthfuls of bug stew. Still, all the talk of spirituality and becoming one with…something got boring quick. Setting his bowl aside, he decided to find Zenyatta, who must’ve been catching up with his friend Huu. He found the two meditating together, separate from the other members of the tribe. He…didn’t realize that was a group activity. Grimacing, he turned to head back. At least the spirit babble was more interesting than watching two people sit in silence.

“Genji.”

The prince stopped. Damn, how did Zenyatta always know he was there? It wouldn’t be so bad if it didn’t remind him of Hanzo. “Huh?” he grumbled, turning to face him again.

Zenyatta and Huu stood up, bowing their heads to each other before Huu smiled kindly at Genji and started back to the fire where the others were sitting. The monk gestured for Genji to follow him before continuing to walk even further from the others. Somehow…he must’ve known he needed privacy. Did he know what he wanted to talk about? Could he read his mind, somehow? Was he…secretly the Avatar!?

After reaching a pair of dry, raised roots Zenyatta puffed himself up into the air and landed lightly in a cross-legged position on one of them, gesturing for Genji to take a seat on the other. Sighing, Genji complied, using his own bending to jet himself up rather than climbing, just to make sure Zenyatta didn’t think he was slipping. Genji grinned confidently once he had his perch, as if he’d successfully responded to some sort of playful challenge. The monk met his cheeky grin with a quiet chuckle. It was almost like old times, even with the ambient swamp odor.

“I’ve sensed conflict in you for a long time now, Genji,” Zenyatta began, his tone sobering with the subject matter, “I hope you trust me enough to speak with me about it…I will mention it to no one, and I think I may be able to help you if you will allow it.”

Genji straightened his back, folding his arms. He knew his friend meant well…but how was he supposed to admit to a conflict without sacrificing some of his resolve? Hanzo needed to be punished. It was a fact, and there was no getting around it.

“I just wanted to ask you about what Huu said; people seeing things,” he replied stubbornly, “I think I might’ve seen something last night, and I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t going insane.”

The monk chuckled again, shaking his head. “No, it is perfectly normal for this swamp to show us images, some of the past, some of the present…even some of the future,” he explained, “the spiritual energy here is potent; it is a perfect place for meditation and self reflection.”

“Oh,” Genji growled. More spirit talk. Why was that so important to both of them? It never did him any good to sit around for hours on end, thinking about nothing.

Zenyatta smiled amusedly…and Genji wondered with dread what he sensing this time. “I’m sure you don’t think it…but these things are connected,” he continued, “I sensed the conflict was fresh in you when I stopped the fight between you and Huu. Tell me about what you saw. I know you had never been one to focus on spiritual growth, and that it’s likely you still don’t, but I have seen how diligently you train. There is only so much training alone can do for your bending, for anyone’s bending. Will you give me the chance to show you?”

Genji fidgeted on his root seat, drawing one leg up so his knee was by his shoulder. “If...it will help me become a better firebender I’ll try anything,” he answered after a long, thoughtful pause, “you just have to promise that you won’t tell Angela. I don’t want her to worry.”

“Of course not,” Zenyatta replied, clearly happy to hear it, “this is your story, after all, and only you have the right to tell it.”

Genji let out a long, petulant sigh, but it wasn’t as if he didn’t plan on telling him anyway. “I saw Hanzo,” he admitted bluntly, “he asked for my help. He looked wounded, but I don’t know by what.” He cleared his throat while hesitating to tell him his reaction. He still hated that he felt guilty for what he did to what turned out to be a fake Hanzo. Unfortunately, the ever perceptive Zenyatta would probably know if he lied. It was the conflict he’d mentioned…and maybe he could help him focus on what mattered. “I said that I wouldn’t help him. Then I attacked him and he disappeared.” He sighed angrily to himself, shrugging. “He deserves the opposite of my help. I don’t know why I still feel…” he sighed again, this time with less fire in his tone, and looked down at the toe of his boot, “…bad about it.”

Zenyatta nodded slowly, placing his hands on his knees. “Yes…but it is good that you feel reluctant to exact vengeance on someone you love,” he assured him, “were it otherwise, I would be concerned.” He chuckled quietly before taking a calm breath, his expression relaxing.

“But why should I still love someone who tried to kill me?” the prince demanded, his voice saturated with frustration, “would meditation help me to sort it out? To focus myself on what must be done?”

“Yes,” the monk replied, cocking his head, “but perhaps not in the way you think. We meditate to rebalance our spirits, to bring peace to our inner selves. What you think must be done now and what you may find needs to be done later are different things, regardless of the path you choose.”

Genji groaned impatiently, slipping his leg back down to hang it off the root with the other one. “You’re talking in riddles,” he complained, “we used to make fun of the monks for doing that when we were younger, remember?”

Zenyatta laughed heartily, shaking his head as he recalled their behavior from long ago. “Oh, yes, that’s right,” he mused, “I suppose it must’ve leaked into me over the years…but the point I’m trying to make might best be explained in another way, if you want to try it.”

Naturally reluctant to commit to something proposed in such a vague way, Genji narrowed his eyes. “Try…what?”

Zenyatta smiled, placing his hands in front of his body with their palms pressed together. “A spiritual communion,” he answered, his tone serious, “it’s a technique Avatar Mondatta often used to venture into the Spirit World…of course, we cannot do the same without his gift. However, it is possible to use it to look inside ourselves, to find the areas which hinder us and work toward the best selves we can possibly become.”

“How do you know that? The Avatar died twenty years ago, before either of us was even born.”

“The followers of Mondatta, who have named themselves the Shambali, have the strongest presence at my home temple, which was also his. Most of the monks at the Northern Air Temple are able to use this technique, but I have chosen to focus on it…and now I am able to apply it to others. Using it, I hope to help as many people as I can achieve balance, which may one day bring balance to the entire world. After all, we must understand ourselves before we can truly understand those around us and without the Avatar, understanding may be our only hope for lasting peace.”

Rather than try to wrap his head around something he wasn’t sure he even cared about, Genji let his head lull dramatically, hoping he could escape the situation with humor. Still…part of him was curious. Composing himself, he shrugged. “Well…I still don’t know what it is, but you can try it.”

Zenyatta hummed happily while pulling a pouch off of his belt, untying the plain brown cord so he could pour its contents into his hand. It was a collection of large silver marbles, and none of them looked particularly special. Despite himself, Genji couldn’t help but be suddenly interested in what he was planning to do with them.

Positioning his hand over the one holding the marbles, the monk raised an eyebrow at him. “I will need you to watch these marbles carefully,” he began, “without a distraction it is difficult for me to access your spirit. Although you have yet to focus on spiritual matters, your will has become quite strong. It’s a good trait to have in a world full of dangers, but your inherent disbelief will be a hindrance to this process.” He smiled warmly at him. “Hopefully you will have more control in the future, if you are interested in trying it again.”

Genji pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes, feeling that disbelief he’d mentioned floating right at the surface. Still, he’d come this far and he definitely wasn’t a coward. “Fine,” he breathed, settling his gaze on the marbles.

As he watched, the marbles whipped into the air and began to whirl in circles, orbiting some invisible axis between Zenyatta’s hands. Genji figured it must’ve been some cute airbending trick he’d learned, and was sure he would’ve thought it was impressive when he was younger. Now…he guessed it was still a little impressive, though ultimately useless in battle.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” he murmured without looking up, careful to do as Zenyatta had asked. The monk didn’t break his concentration to respond.

After waiting and watching the spinning marbles for what felt much longer than it must have really been, Genji let out a long, disappointed breath. “It’s not working,” he muttered, looking up at Zenyatta to see the dot tattoos on the monk’s forehead glowing blue. Zenyatta grinned, allowing the marbles to land in his palm so he could lower his hands. The swamp before him had changed into an atmosphere of pure black…a void where he couldn’t even hear another living thing stir.

“You may be frightened at first,” Zenyatta’s voice sounded in the very sudden silence around them, though his lips hadn’t moved, “but you have no reason to be. We are just as safe as we were before.”

“Where are we?” Genji asked, his voice sounding small and distant even to himself.

“Neither of us have moved,” Zenyatta’s disembodied voice explained, “but what you see before you is a visual representation of your inner self. To help others see their spirits as things that are just as real as the world they live in, I have found the most success in giving them something they think they can see with their eyes.”

“But there’s nothing here.”

“This is _your_ spirit, Genji. Focus on what matters to you most, what you hope to accomplish, and we will have something to see."


	8. Chapter Eight

Amélie kept a firm grip on her shirshu’s saddle as it climbed carefully through the tangles of roots and vines, hard on their prey’s trail through the dim swamp. She found herself being tossed from side to side, even almost upside down while they navigated the rough terrain. The shirshu, although blind, was almost as good as climbing as it was digging, luckily. The only threat, then, was her own grip failing her.

The sun was just starting rise, and she knew he had to be close by the way her mount seemed to have an easier time of locking onto his scent despite the constant smell of rot and muck around them. She knew she would be in range long before the new day had ended.

“Calm now, Gérard,” she whispered to her partner once they’d finally arrived on a more stable footing, a particularly dense root cluster bridged in stringy dead vines. She climbed off of his back and gently stroked his fur to soothe him while he caught his breath. Even the most determined and cunning of hunters needed rest after chasing his quarry for a day and night without stopping.

It might have been strange to name an animal after her late husband, but she could think of nothing better for her dear, loyal companion. Poor Gérard…he had joined the war effort years ago, hoping to use his skills to serve a noble cause. But there was nothing noble about the Fire Nation anymore.

She didn’t hate her homeland, nor did she think her life had been unfair, not like other war-torn widows she had met when her parents pressured her into finding people to share her experiences with and heal. It wasn’t healing she wanted. She would miss Gérard, she would miss her dancing, she would wonder what sort of family they might’ve had if things had turned out differently…but she was never one to dwell.

Her target, the younger of the two princes, was probably the least threatening and least irksome member of his family, but it wasn’t her job to question her employers. Her priority target had already been killed by an unknown rival. As annoying as that was, she wished she could know how the assassin had managed to slay the fire lord in his own palace and keep his or her identity entirely hidden afterward. It was a true work of art. With Fire Lord Sojiro gone, her personal vendetta had been settled. Now, it was purely business. Her employer’s reason for wanting young Genji captured was a mystery, and hardly her concern.

Amélie left Gérard to rest and began lining up a row of poisoned darts alongside her weapon, a powerful crossbow she had modified with an alternate firing mechanism that would allow her to switch from deadly, precision bolts to the nonlethal darts. Coated in her shirshu’s venom, the darts would render anyone struck by them paralyzed and easy to collect. Although she was certain she would have the prince himself with a single well-aimed shot, she’d learned from tailing him that he was in the presence of more than one traveling companion. It would make things tricky, but the only one she was told to keep alive was Genji. His friends were expendable, apparently.

Had she not been told otherwise, she would have believed Prince Genji to be dead, as everyone else did. The truth, she was told, was to be kept secret at all costs. In that case, it seemed the most efficient solution to whatever problem he posed would be a more lethal one…but at least she was being paid extra to bag him up, safe and sound. Amélie stood again once her weapon had been prepared and returned to the creature’s side to stroke his head gently.

“Where are they, Gérard?” she cooed quietly. The shirshu lifted his head to sniff the air, then looked off to their left and growled. They were close, then…very close. “Merci, mon chou,” she murmured back before kissing his nose, “wait here.”

With that, Amélie continued on foot in the direction Gérard had indicated. After picking her way through more of the same muck and vines, she could see the flickering yellow-orange light of a nearby fire shining between two of the more slender swamp trees that had grown so close together that they formed a crotch between them, the perfect place to spy on those beyond them. Remaining hidden by the trees, she peered through the narrow opening to see the fire was bigger than she’d expected. What she saw was an entire village of people as opposed to the small traveling party she’d been hunting.

For the briefest of moments, she wondered if Gérard’s nose had failed them. Her confidence in him was immediately restored when she saw a blond water tribe girl among the villagers, clearly out of place. One of Genji’s companions, perhaps. The prince himself wasn’t with the group huddled around the fire. She placed her crossbow between the trees and peered through the telescope she’d mounted on it to improve her line of sight. Searching slowly and carefully, she finally found someone who might’ve matched the prince’s description, if not for the abundance of scars on every inch of his exposed skin.

“Ouh là là,” she breathed quietly to herself, smiling just slightly, “what happened to you, poor boy?”

The scarred prince was sitting cross-legged with someone who appeared to be an air nomad. The nearby air bison proved her assumption correct, and its presence explained how they’d managed to keep their distance from her for so long. Regardless, now that she was on top of them, they wouldn’t escape her for much longer. Sighing, she pulled her crossbow back and tilted her head as she watched the three outsiders in the swamp village. She didn’t have enough darts or bolts to incapacitate an entire village. She didn’t know where they were headed, but the closest city, Omashu, was still at least two days away, even by air bison travel. She could afford to wait until they were alone.

\---

Genji watched the black void around them as he tried to do as Zenyatta had said, to focus on what he needed to accomplish: defeating Hanzo in battle. He expected to see the palace, or perhaps just some vague setting for that eventual battle appear before them, but it didn’t. The void remained…and he couldn’t help but be frustrated.

“Is this just a g—!?“ Genji’s outburst was interrupted by a loud roar, startling him. He stood up and spun around to face the source of the noise, only to be met face-to-face with an enormous dragon that had bowed down to look at him on his level. He recoiled instinctively and nearly tripped on his own feet as he tried to avoid backing into Zenyatta.

The monk appeared in front of him, floating off the ground that had appeared under the dragon’s claws, still in his seated position. The dragon was coiled up in what looked like a cave lit by an ambient white glow. Its serpentine body was covered in glossy, almost iridescent scales that reflected the light in varying colors of green, casting a dazzling light show along the walls of the cave that shifted in every shade from lime to viridian whenever the dragon moved.

Although Genji had slipped into a defensive stance in the dragon’s presence, the creature didn’t make a move to attack, though it seemed uneasy. It took him a minute or two to work up the courage to look at Zenyatta, thereby taking his eyes off the dragon. “I don’t understand,” he said, “we aren’t in danger, are we?”

Zenyatta chuckled. “Not at all,” he replied. He rotated in the air to look up at the dragon. “Within every firebender lives the spirit of a dragon,” he explained, “they were the first firebenders…and without them you wouldn’t have your gift. You see, to truly reach his potential, a firebender must first be in harmony with his inner dragon.”

The dragon Zenyatta had claimed was part of his spirit seemed to relax at last, resting its head on its front legs while its long tail curled in front of its claws. Genji allowed himself to drop the defensive stance he’d taken out of instinct, on the off chance the monk was right. Being afraid of his own spirit dragon would be…stupid.

“How is it an airbender like you would know something about firebending that firebenders don’t?” Genji asked suspiciously, his disbelief leaking in once again, “I never heard anything about my inner self from my instructors, and I know that’s not how Hanzo became as strong as he is.”

Despite the accusatory tone he’d accidentally used, Zenyatta seemed unfazed. He clasped his hands together in his lap and shrugged lightly. “All benders have some connection to the origin of their bending gifts,” he said, “besides, you are not the first wayward firebender to cross my path. I hope you will indulge my theories…but I have noticed a great difference between the sensibilities of the firebenders I’ve encountered and their inner dragons. I am sure your people could achieve so much more than they already have if they merely listened to their own spirits.”

Genji rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to zing him for being so “monkish”, but stopped when the dragon huffed at him, a little puff of flame bursting from its nostrils. The prince backpedaled rapidly as the massive dragon stood up, folding its wings close to its body before it began to walk toward him.

“Don’t run, Genji,” Zenyatta told him, “you have nothing to fear.”

Genji had to work hard to stop himself from fleeing, naturally intimidated by the dragon’s size, though it didn’t appear to be hostile toward him. He clenched his fists into tight balls and had his feet spread, ready to dodge, while he watched it approach him, then lower its head to touch its nose to his forehead.

His vision went white, then gray before the image of another dragon formed in his mind, this one with equally brilliant scales in shades of blue. Although he’d never seen it before, he knew what his spirit dragon was showing him and felt the urge to pull away. He knew what it wanted him to do, but it was impossible. It was the exact opposite of what _he_ wanted to do. As instantly as the vision had appeared, it vanished.

Genji opened his eyes to see he was back in the swamp, not that he’d ever actually left. Zenyatta sighed quietly, frowning.

“I can’t do it,” the prince insisted, sliding off his root seat to stand up again, “I can’t give that dragon what it wants.”

The monk nodded slowly. “Genji, ‘that dragon’ is part of you,” he replied grimly, “I understand it must be hard to accept…but this is the source of your conflict. You are forcing your inner dragon to be at war with its own brother. You may be able to defeat Hanzo one day, without its help, but doing so may stunt your growth as a bender forever.”

Genji folded his arms stubbornly, but refused to look at Zenyatta when he responded: “I never cared much about bending anyway.”

There was a period of silence while neither of them spoke, the tension rising with every second. Genji felt guilty again. His friend was only trying to help him, and he’d spat in his face just as he’d done to Angela.

“I’m sorry,” he said at last, finding it easier to do with the practice he’d gotten from talking to the girl, “I know you were just trying to help. I’ll find my own way to solve my problems.”

Zenyatta smiled, shaking his head. “There is nothing to apologize for,” he assured him, “but I hope you will at least keep this experience in your mind. Perhaps it will help you with this ‘way’.” He stood up as well, dusting off the seat of his pants with his hands. “In any case, we should get started. The Northern Water Tribe will not come to us.”

Genji nodded his agreement and turned to head back and find Angela. To his chagrin, the image of Hanzo’s blue dragon wouldn’t leave his mind’s eye. It’d looked…sad; even a little weak and pitiful, no doubt a creation of his own dragon’s imagination to tug at his heartstrings. Why did getting revenge have to be so hard to think about? It should have been simple: crime and punishment, black and white, no conflicts about it. He had to remind himself not to mention anything of it to Angela. Again, she wouldn’t understand.

                                                                            ---                                                

Hanzo followed Commander Morrison as they entered the resort town of Ember Island. They’d been traveling for days on foot, hitching rides on wagons, and by bribing ferry drivers to reach the town in hopes that they’d find someone willing to take them across the sea to the Earth Kingdom. The treacherous Fire Nation nobles who’d helped Master Akande and his bloodbender take control of the palace had organized a nationwide lockdown, forbidding any travel off the archipelago’s individual islands, claiming they were in search of a dangerous fugitive.

Dangerous fugitive or not, Hanzo no longer felt like the Fire Lord. His bending was gone. He traveled like a criminal, avoiding checkpoints and lowering his head in the presence of those who had been _his_ soldiers until recently. There was no telling how many of them were traitors like the palace guards, but the commander had been right in saying it wasn’t worth the risk of being exposed to try and find help in any official channels. If they were captured again, Hanzo was certain Jack would be put to death and he’d be thoroughly restrained to prevent the incident from repeating. Unacceptable.

Hanzo didn’t like the idea of traveling to Ember Island. As a resort island that housed vacation homes for many of the wealthier citizens of the Fire Nation, he feared it was likely they would come across someone allied with the nobles who’d betrayed him. Their chances of recognizing him as the Fire Lord were much higher, as many of them might have been in his presence before. Regardless, Jack had assured him it was the place they were most likely to find a way out of the Fire Nation. With no better ideas presenting themselves, he’d decided to trust him.

Hanzo could remember coming to the island with his family in his youth…they were nice, happy memories of a time before an overbearing tyrant had taken the place of his father. His mother was alive then…and so was Genji. They were memories he needed to banish, despite the familiar sights; it wasn’t safe there anymore.

The town itself was relatively small, most of the estates positioned on its outskirts for privacy. There was a market where servants could find basic items, like food, candles, clothing, and the occasional medicinal herb. Although there was a tavern where people could congregate for drinks and entertainment, there was no inn or hotel, for the sake of preserving its exclusive nature. As such, Hanzo knew they would need to find their way out before the sun could set or they’d be picked up by the night watchmen, giving them only a few hours of search time. He hoped Jack’s confidence would line up with reality.

Like everywhere else they’d been, the number of guards throughout the town had at least doubled to search for him. He kept his head low, but walked as casually as he could while he followed the commander through the few streets that made up the settlement. To his surprise, Jack headed toward the tavern.

“Is now really the time for a drink?” he whispered critically, his mood clearly more sour than usual.

“Highborn nobles aren’t the only people who choose to retire here,” Jack explained quietly, foregoing the usual respect he treated him with. They’d agreed that using any sort of reference to Hanzo’s identity was foolish. Reluctant as he was to do it, he would need to relinquish his name, his title, just to avoid being hauled off like a common thief.

From one of the most powerful people in the world to this? It would take…adjustment. Jack’s familiar, casual way of speaking to him was a big change, one he wasn’t sure he disliked. In a weird way, it reminded him of Genji, who had never been one to refer to anyone respectfully. The thought brought a tiny smile to his lips.

 They entered the tavern to find it was the less busy time of day, before the servants had been released from their duties for the evening. The lack of crowds did much to comfort Hanzo, though it made them much easier to take notice of. He waited while Jack walked over to the owner and exchanged a brief series of words with him, before he gestured toward a doorway leading into the next room. Jack flicked a coin to him before gesturing for Hanzo to follow him in the direction the owner had indicated.

The next room was even emptier than the last, with only one occupant. The man sitting at the centermost table in the room was…enormous, to say the least. Towering at least a whole foot higher than the commander, who was tall enough in his own right, the man looked comically out of place in his normal-sized chair. Like Jack, he had a full head of blond hair, though it appeared some of it had started the graying process. Aside from his freakish size, the scarred remains of one unusable eye made him thoroughly noticeable. It explained why he’d been so easy to find…but Hanzo wasn’t confident he’d be good for their traveling undercover bit.

Upon their emergence from the previous room, the large man looked up, his one eye widening when he got a good look at Jack, despite the inconspicuous measures he’d taken to keep from being spotted at a distance. “Ah!” he boomed while standing up, his chair clattering to the ground in the process, “my old friend!” He reached them in just a couple of strides and proceeded to wrap two thick arms around the entirety of the commander’s frame in a strangling embrace. Hanzo backed away, hoping he could escape a similar fate.

“We…are sort of in a situation here, Sir,” Jack wheezed into the larger man’s muscular shoulder, though he made no effort to free himself.

The big man released him and slapped him hard on the shoulder. “Sir?” he parroted him with a laugh, “back to your old ways, I see.” He took hold of the shoulder he’d slapped and quite easily pulled him over to the table he’d been sitting at. “Tell me all about it. I haven’t had an exciting story since I set up here.”

“Maybe you retired too early.” Jack sat down and turned to gesture for Hanzo to join them. “You probably would have made general if you gave it a few more years.” Full of misgivings, Hanzo inched his way over to take a seat at the table. After setting his chair back in its place, the large man did the same.

“General, hm? Ha! You would have better luck hiring a hippo cow to dust your pottery shop!” The large man turned his one working eye on Hanzo, who could only frown back, displeased by how conspicuous the commander’s friend had turned out to be. “And, who is your severe friend here?” he asked.

Jack cleared his throat and gave the fire lord an apologetic glance. “That’s something we should discuss in private,” he replied, his voice low and furtive.

The ridiculous smile that’d decorated the other man’s face vanished, to be replaced with a grim frown in an instant. “That bad, is it?” he murmured, “come, this way.”

After placing a handful of coins on the table, he got out of his chair and proceeded toward a door at the back of the room, which led to an empty alleyway between the tavern and the shop behind it. They walked quickly, but not suspiciously, as they followed their new companion to an area just outside of the main town, where a small, but dignified house awaited them. Once they were inside, the man gestured for them to sit on the cushions situated around a low table in the first room’s center.

“Now, Jackie, tell me everything you can,” he said while beginning to prepare a pot of tea.

Jack sighed, visibly relaxing a little with the privacy of the home around them “Well…first thing’s first. Hanzo, this is Captain Reinhardt Wilhelm.” At the mention of the fire lord’s name, Reinhardt stopped and looked back, an eyebrow cocked interestedly. Jack looked back at him, nodding. “Sir, this Fire Lord Hanzo,” he cracked a small smile before adding, ‘the ‘terrorist’ you’ve probably heard about in your line of work.”

Their host set everything he’d been holding back in their places and turned to face Hanzo, bowing his head respectfully. “Your highness,” he greeted him, his tone the soberest it’d been since they’d met him, “it’s truly an honor!” He looked between them, concern wrinkling his features. “What’s this terrorist talk? Is that why I’ve been stuck in the harbor for the past week?”

“It was a coup,” Hanzo growled, answering for his commander, “if I am captured, this nation will fall to my father’s treacherous council members.” His hand went to the hilt of a knife he’d yanked away from a man who’d tried to mug him two days prior. “And I will not allow more treachery to go unpunished,” he promised, his tone threatening.

“No amount of money could buy the captain’s loyalty from you,” Jack promised, raising a hand as if it would calm him. Hanzo ignored him, his critical gaze settled on the man who seemed entirely capable of snapping him in half with his bare hands. Despite the air of confidence he exuded, his heart was thundering in his chest.

Reinhardt’s eye widened again. “Your highness,” he began slowly, “if you ever have reason to doubt me, you have every right to take my last eye with that knife. And if you’ve come here to find a way off this island, my ship is yours, closed border or not.”

Hanzo angled his head to watch him from under his eyelids, as if judging him with a look. At last, he took his hand off the hilt and let a long breath out through his nose, placing his hands disarmingly in his lap. “Very well,” he replied simply.

Reinhardt came to sit at the table with them, foregoing tea for the moment. He looked between them again, his expression grim. “I don’t suppose any of that was exaggerated,” he said hopefully, “I haven’t heard anything from the palace since…” he hesitated, looking at Hanzo and frowning, “since the assassination. My deepest condolences, my lord.”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Hanzo replied curtly, hoping to change the subject as fast as he could. Although he didn’t regret what he’d done, the coup had given him reason to wonder if it was wise in the end. Akande wouldn’t have tried anything while his father was still alive.

“Of course…your first priority must be escape,” Reinhardt agreed. He clasped his huge hands on the table and gestured toward the back of the house with a toss of his head. “My ship is guarded, like the rest,” he said, “but under cover of darkness we may free it. Once we are out to sea, they won’t be able to find us in the night.”

“That’s just what I hoped for,” Jack agreed, “how soon will you be ready to leave?”

“Tonight, of course!” Reinhardt chirped, his mood seeming to have improved considerably. He lifted one hand and slammed his fist on the table emphatically. “We will right this wrong…for honor and glory!”

Hanzo felt a smile playing at the corners of his mouth and grimaced to stop it. “Quietly, I hope,” he murmured.

“Like a panther,” Reinhardt promised in a borderline growl, “but until then, you two can rest easily here.” He grinned, grinding his fist into his other hand. “No one here would dare to betray their good friend Reinhardt!”


	9. Chapter Nine

Once darkness had fallen, Reinhardt led the displaced fire lord and his commander toward the Ember Island harbor. They’d packed bags with food and canteens of fresh water in preparation, as well as tied up one heavy wool blanket for each of them for warmth. Hanzo still had his stolen knife and bow, with fresh arrows he’d fletched during their travels. It was a tedious process, but he was glad he’d taken the time to learn it during his archery training. Although Jack had the skill to use nearly any weapon he could come across, he’d been forced to stick with the sword he had before for the sake of concealment.

Of course, with their new companion’s choice in weaponry, that didn’t appear to be an issue anymore. Reinhardt had a hammer. A normal hammer wouldn’t have been so inconvenient…but this one was at least the length of Hanzo’s body, if not longer, with a head large enough to flatten him in one well-placed strike. Until then, Hanzo had been concerned purely with going unnoticed…but after giving it some thought, he doubted anyone who saw the enormous man with the equally enormous hammer would try to pounce on them once they reached the Earth Kingdom. Never being mugged again was an enticing prospect.

Having always had an active night life, the resort town itself was spared the nightly curfew most other towns had been subjected to. It was a smart move on Akande’s part; he would need the support of the other nobles to maintain his hold on the throne once he’d found a way to deal with Hanzo and interfering with their leisure time wasn’t the way to get it. Hanzo, of course, had no intention of letting his plan progress that far.

Once they began to approach the harbor itself, Reinhardt led them away from the road to avoid the increasingly-alert patrols. The pad-pad-padding of Hanzo’s nearly silent footsteps contrasted greatly with the other two’s much heavier plodding, but it was thankfully a windy night and the sound wasn’t likely to travel very far with the rustling of leaves and the hiss of the nearby ocean to drown it out. His bow ready with an arrow knocked, he remained poised to kill at any sign of alarm. As much as he would have liked to release his anger on the men who were meant to serve him, he couldn’t risk bringing their firebenders down upon them before they’d reached the captain’s ship. Without a single bender among them, they’d have nothing to compensate for being outnumbered _and_ underpowered.

With the harbor in sight, Reinhardt stopped in a cluster of bushes to face the other two and point. There were three docks, one with a four fishing boats clustered around it, a larger one with a full ship fit for longer voyages, and the furthest one with two more large ships, even one that appeared to be a Fire Nation Navy battleship. Although that last ship would have been Hanzo’s first choice for its durability, they had no way to use it without firebending. He grimaced to himself.

The ship Reinhardt was pointing to was the closest of the three ships. It was unfortunately made primarily of flammable wood, with what appeared to be standard cloth sails, though the fire lord held out hope that they were made of something a little stronger. The closest section of the harbor that promised at least a little cover was a collection of fishing huts, no doubt left empty with all the boats forced to remain at the dock, positioned at the end of a shallow peninsula.

They could see two guards hovering around the huts in the light of hanging lanterns. Approaching from the darkness, they made their way around the corner of the closest hut. Jack peeked around it to make sure there weren’t any guards that’d been hidden from their line of sight before they hurried to the shore. They had planned to advance on the ship from the water, but the wind had stirred up choppy waves further out to sea, which restricted them to the shallows. The fishing boat dock was between them and Reinhardt’s ship, with only two guards standing at its end to keep an eye on the boats. Beyond it, Reinhardt’s dock was guarded by three armed men, with three more visible on the ship’s deck.

“If we remain quiet we should be able to swim under both docks where the guards can’t see us,” Jack whispered, just loud enough for the others to hear. He traced the path with his finger in the air, from their position at the tip of the peninsula to under the fishing dock, under the dock where Reinhardt’s ship was, and out behind it. “We’ll duck underwater whenever the lighthouse beam turns in our direction, then climb up the back side of the ship where the light doesn’t reach and take out the guards on board,” he continued, “we avoid alerting the guards on the dock and kick off the loading ramp to keep them from boarding us while we set sail. It doesn’t leave a lot of room for error, but with all the guards positioned around here we won’t stand a chance in an all-out fight.”

Hanzo hummed while considering the plan in his mind, attempting to visualize it. “It will take them some time to reach the other ships once we’ve started moving,” he added hopefully, “our only problem will be the firebenders. I’m sure they must have at least four among them, though not many more given this island’s population.”

“No truly powerful firebender remains a guard for long,” Reinhardt pointed out, his usually booming voice uncharacteristically low, “I’m sure not even four of them could stand against the fire lord.”

Hanzo realized, frustratingly, he’d foregone telling their new companion about the bloodbender in the palace. He grunted, annoyed at himself. “Relying on my firebending is not an option at this time, for reasons we cannot afford to discuss at length now,” he stated vaguely, “we must operate purely as non benders.”

To his relief, the large man didn’t press for more information. He wasn’t even sure he could give him the answers to any questions he might already have. A waterbender who could deprive others of their bending? It’d been completely unheard of.

“No…” Jack murmured in a thinking tone, “Captain, can you raise the anchor and get the ship ready to sail on your own?”

“Easily,” Reinhardt replied confidently.

“Right…once we’re aboard, you two can give me your blankets…we’ll deal with the guards on board, the fire lord can take out the firebenders with his bow, and I’ll keep the ship afloat while Reinhardt gets us going.”

Hanzo allowed himself to smile a little, though he wasn’t accustomed to being ordered around. In this case, he trusted the commander’s battle experience over his own. He could see the plan working, as long as each of them stayed on top of their respective jobs…and the risk made it exciting. Without his firebending practice to keep him relaxed, he’d been craving the chance to release a little tension.

“I don’t mean to doubt you or the fire lord, my friend,” Reinhardt murmured, scratching the beard that adorned his chin, “but I’m sure at least one of the firebenders will get a shot at us before being struck down, and it will be difficult to haul sea water aboard during a fight without a full crew to help us.”

Jack nodded and looked back at the larger man, his sly smile just visible in the light of the moon. “The blankets will be soaked,” he replied simply, confirming the theory Hanzo had already formed in his head. Even without confirmation, the fire lord had been ready to trust him, based solely on the respect he’d earned from him. He looked back as well, to see if the captain had caught on.

Reinhardt’s smile formed slowly at first, then grew to become triumphant so quickly Hanzo was briefly concerned he would let out another proud bellow. Wincing, he put a finger to his lips. “I should have expected such a clever solution from you,” Reinhardt rumbled, his voice managing to remain low despite the exuberant look on his face.

“Then let us begin,” Hanzo suggested, already creeping his way toward the waterline. The others didn’t object, following close behind him.

They waded slowly and quietly into the water until they were deep enough to duck under before heading toward the fishing dock. Using Jack’s strategy, they managed to slip beneath the fishing dock without being caught in the light and were well on their way to the next one when the beam made its way around again. Treading water beneath the surface, Hanzo watched the light wash over them and listened briefly before taking the risk of resurfacing. So far, so good.

The group managed to round the back of Reinhardt’s ship without incident, where they plotted their climb up to the deck. Of course, swimming there was the easiest part of the plan. Hanzo picked his way up the rough side of the ship ahead of the others, eager to get a good look on deck before running the risk of one of the two much heavier men exposing him with a heavier-than-intended step. He slinked from the deck’s railing toward the mast where he kept himself in its shadow while pulling his bow free of the sleeve that held it to his back. Compensating for the water weight in his arrows’ fletching, he aimed for the furthest of the three guards and waited for the others to make the first move.

He fired as soon as the commander sprinted into view and leapt on the second of the guards to knock him out with the pommel of his sword. Reinhardt rammed into the last of them, tossing him overboard as easily as anyone else might’ve thrown their dirty laundry into a washbasin. The attacks executed almost simultaneously, it wasn’t until they heard the splash that the guards on the dock spun around and shouted an alarm. With a mighty swing of his hammer, Reinhardt helped the boarding ramp join the guard he’d knocked away in the sea before rushing to raise the anchor.

Hanzo emerged from the shadow of the mast to stop an archer he’d spotted from striking the giant down, while Jack rushed between them to collect their soggy blankets and bring them to the starboard side where soldiers were already starting to advance on them. The fire lord kept his focus on the armored men who didn’t have swords in their hands, the surest sign of which among them were firebenders. At the first sign of flame, Hanzo struck its summoner with a well-placed shot to the throat.

Drawing another arrow, he aimed for the next but failed to shoot before a gust of fire struck the ship’s hull, igniting it easily with the bender’s energy to egg it on. Jack was upon the blaze in seconds, where he slid to a stop to fling one of the heavy dripping blankets over the growing flame. Hanzo shot the firebender who’d caused it before he could try to stop the commander from snuffing it out. It left only three visible benders, who had yet to get close enough to attack. Briefly turning his attention from them, he stopped another archer he spotted near a lantern’s glow from trying to target Reinhardt through the darkness.

He grunted in surprise when someone grabbed his ankle through the railing, having managed to climb just high enough to reach him from the dock. His wet boot slipped out from under him in response to being pulled, but he managed to land on his knee rather than flat on his back, where he braced himself to try and wriggle his leg free. When force alone failed him, he whipped the knife he’d stolen out from under his belt and blindly jabbed at the hand that held him in place. He felt the blade touch his own ankle, but was rewarded when the hand released him with a yank, tearing the knife from his hand. He cursed and pushed himself away from the edge before standing again, scrambling to recollect his bearings.

He knocked and drew his bow in one fluid motion when he spotted the light of another firebender’s attack out of the corner of his eye. The summoned blast rushed upward to ignite the sail above them just before Hanzo could stop it. Without hesitation, he slipped his quiver off his back and dropped it on the deck with his bow.

“Commander!” he called while running to grab one of the blankets. When Jack looked back at him, he gestured toward his discarded weapon before hurrying to the base of the rigging. His heart was pounding anxiously as he jumped on the crisscrossed ropes, but he knew he was the fastest climber among them and they didn’t have time to negotiate.

While Jack kept up the defense with his bow, Hanzo scrambled up toward the furled sails with the salty bundled blanket clenched tightly in his teeth. “GNFH!” he growled when he heard a crossbow bolt pass too closely by his head for comfort, glaring down at the commander who was already preparing to return the shot.

He reached the sail and hung himself from its support by his legs while taking the blanket in his hands. With a strong abdominal heave, he whipped it up to reach the section of the sail that’d been set aflame. Once it’d been securely draped over the support, he swung his arms up to grip the beam and inch his way forward to continue guiding the blanket over the fire. Although he managed to douse the entirety of the blaze in a minute or so, it took too long for his satisfaction. The sail will have taken significant damage in that time, but he could only hope it was intact enough to get them away from the dock.

From his perch near the mast, Hanzo gestured toward the path that joined Reinhardt’s dock with the others, where a group of soldiers was hurrying toward the other ships. “C--!” his call was interrupted when he had to sling his arms around the mast for support, the ship having been pushed into the dock by a particularly forceful wave. The anchor was up!

“The sail, my lord!” he heard Reinhardt call from below, where he’d rushed to man the wheel. Hanzo collected his nerves and began tugging at the ties that kept the sail rolled against the support beam, one at a time. His lack of experience in the field showing, he knew he was taking much longer than he should have, but with an airy billow the sail unfurled and instantly filled with wind to push them away from shore. The burned holes were obvious, but not large enough to stop them completely. Letting out a sigh of relief, Hanzo began the climb back down to the deck.

He passed Jack while he continued to fire at their pursuers, some of which who’d already managed to make it to the other of the wooden ships, their battleship inoperable without their firebenders. He ran to join Reinhardt by the wheel.

“Captain,” he called urgently, “I require flint and oil.”

“I thought we wanted to keep the fires out, my lord!” Reinhardt replied incredulously.

“On our ship, yes,” the fire lord stated, “but I believe theirs needs a few more to even the odds.”

“Ha, of course!” the large man exclaimed joyously, “there are basic supplies in my cabin. Hold the line!” With that, the giant left him to take the wheel while he hurried to fill his order.

Wide-eyed and confused, Hanzo glanced between the man and the wheel that was already beginning to spin out of control at the churning ocean’s behest. Trying not to think about it too much, he reached out to catch one of the spokes in his hand, only to be yanked along with it when the force proved to be stronger than he’d expected.

“Hnnnh!” he grunted loudly while pulling it back up with his knees until he was able to stand tall again. He looked up to see the ship drifting back to starboard, in the direction of the fishing huts’ peninsula, and spun the wheel to port as fast as he could. Having only been aboard a ship as a passenger before, he had to be a little embarrassed by his slow reflexes, though he spared himself the full brunt of his shame for averting what could have been an instant disaster.

He felt relief rush over him when Reinhardt’s loud footsteps sounded behind him. The captain took one of the wheel spokes in one enormous hand while offering him the items he’d requested with the other. Hanzo sighed exhaustedly, but took them and ran to Jack’s side where he pulled two arrows from his quiver. After yanking the stopper out of the urn of lantern oil, he dipped the tips of the arrows inside and offered one to Jack.

After Jack put the arrow to the bow, he took the commander’s sword and began to strike the flint with it, sending sparks onto the oiled arrow. As soon as it’d caught fire, Jack loosed it at the other ship’s sail. It wasn’t nearly as big a blaze as the one that’d damaged their own, but unless the guards had brought wet blankets with them Hanzo doubted they’d put it out as quickly. Of course, just for good measure, he presented Jack with the second oiled arrow.

The sun was beginning to rise by the time the light of the fire in the enemy ship’s sails was dying out and, in their efforts to douse it, the guards had allowed them to put significant distance between them, a distance that continued to grow as time passed. Relieved, Jack handed the bow and the arrows that remained back to the fire lord before hanging their ashy, moist blankets up to dry.

Hanzo sat himself on the bare deck with his back to the railing and pulled his gloves off his hands, turning his palms to face the rising sun. He prayed, just as he had every morning since they’d escaped the palace, that he would feel some semblance of his power returning in the light’s warmth…but just as every time before, he remained empty. Sighing, he got up again to find out if there was any extra wood aboard he could use to make more arrows.

\---

By the time Iris had landed so Genji and his companions could partake in a quick lunch, the prince could see the stone walls of what appeared to be a large enough city far in the distance. Shielding his eyes from the sun directly overhead, he peered at it across the open plain, searching his knowledge of the Earth Kingdom for anything that might let him guess which city it was. Unfortunately, geography was one of the many subjects he’d considered boring in his youth.

“So,” he began,” where, exactly, are we?”

Zenyatta looked in the direction Genji was facing, then at the sun. “Ahh,” he breathed thoughtfully, “just west of Omashu.” He hummed to himself. “Since the war, the Earth King has relocated to Ba Sing Se, but Omashu was the seat of power in the Earth Kingdom for centuries. I recall it being quite impressive…but going there would deviate from our current course.” He glanced over at Angela, who froze with a piece of dried meat between her teeth.

“Well,” she began, lowering the food for a second, “I’m not exactly in a hurry. I wouldn’t mind a little good-natured sight-seeing. After all, once I go home I’ll be too busy teaching the young ones to have adventures in the world. This might be my last opportunity.”

Genji grimaced, having expected the conversation to branch in that direction. For a waterbender and an airbender, it might not have been a big deal. But, for him? “How…is the sentiment toward firebenders there?” he asked hesitantly.

Zenyatta chuckled. “As good as can be expected,” he hummed nonchalantly, “but I hear it’s much worse in Ba Sing Se, though I have not been there myself in many years.”

Genji let out a long, exasperated sigh. “I guess I should’ve expected our trip to be like this.”

Angela stood up and shoved some jerky at him, cocking an eyebrow. “Eat up,” she ordered, “some of your body is still healing.” Once he took a bite, she smiled kindly. “I’m sorry you must suffer from the deeds of your forefathers…but if we have problems I’m sure they’ll see you mean them no harm, given the chance.”

Genji swallowed hard to clear the insufficiently-chewed jerky from his mouth, wincing a little. “You mean that?” he asked hopefully, but hoarsely while the food stumbled roughly down his esophagus, “I mean, I thought…”

Angela frowned apologetically. “I know what I said before…it was judgmental of me. We all have our issues, but…you’re a good person, Genji. I should have held my tongue.”

Genji realized he was smiling like an idiot and grunted to clear his throat, scratching the back of his head bashfully. It was the first compliment she’d given him in a long time, and it was good to know his efforts were paying off. A little more time and maybe--

The prince yelped when something stung him in the neck. He flung his hand up to swat it only to find a dart protruding from his skin. “Wha…?” He felt his knees wobbling, before the scenery around him tilted suddenly. When Angela and Zenyatta rushed to catch him, he realized it was him that was tilting, most of the feeling gone from his body almost instantly. “Geh Anshla!” he blabbered, his tongue flopping almost uselessly in his mouth. He tried to gesture toward Iris, hoping she would understand what he meant, but the two helped him toward the air bison anyway. If Angela was hit, he didn’t know if he could forgive himself.

While his companions worked to get him in Iris’s saddle, he saw a dart stick itself in the bison’s haunch. She groaned in annoyance, but managed to stay upright, her size proving too strong for whatever poison that’d paralyzed him. Before he could figure out what was happening, they were back in the air. He squinted, trying to identify one dark spot among the grassy plains, far in the distance. It looked like a person, riding some sort of animal, and it was following them!

Another dart appeared, partially hidden by Iris’s thick white fur. Soon, the ground was getting closer. The prince’s heart thundered anxiously in his chest, but he couldn’t will any of his limbs to move, or even his tongue to obey him completely. “Bind ush!” he cried, though he couldn’t even decipher the warning _behind us_ in what managed to make it out of his mouth.

There was a sudden buck when Iris’s hind feet collided with the ground. Though she managed to bounce back up in the air, Genji found himself toppling out of the saddle and into the dust she’d kicked up behind her. He grunted when he hit the ground and rolled onto his back, motionless. His eyes darting from side to side, he could see Iris getting further away and the mystery attacker getting closer. Despite his inability to move out of the way, he could at least be happy Angela and Zenyatta were getting away.

He turned his attention solely on the attacker, trying to identify who it might be. Soon, he figure out he was looking at a woman dressed in the telltale reds and browns of the Fire Nation, holding a crossbow aloft while she advanced on him. The creature she was riding was brown and furry, with a strange nose…a few seconds later, he identified it as a shirshu, the species name given to an anteater-mole hybrid. That, at least, explained how she’d managed to paralyze him; shirshu venom was fast-acting and its effects would only wear off in time.

As the woman made her way closer, he identified fine, even ridiculously attractive features and long, dark hair put up in a ponytail. To his surprise, he didn’t recognize her at all. Who was she, and why was she chasing them!? He would’ve expected the whole Fire Nation to think he was dead after what happened to him in the palace courtyard, but perhaps he’d been wrong. Perhaps the guard commander had recognized him after all, and Hanzo had sent an assassin after him to finish the job so no one would find out what he did! He groaned loudly, trying desperately to make his arms move, anything he could do to stop Hanzo from having his way.

Suddenly, Zenyatta appeared in front of him, landing lightly with a small cloud of dirt kicking up in response to his bending. “Gefouheer!” Genji shouted, unsure if the monk was aware of how dangerous it would be to be anywhere near the shirshu and its venomous tongue when it reached them. To his dismay, Angela was with them both shortly. He growled at himself, demanding that he get up to help them!

Zenyatta avoided a dart meant for him and swung his arms out, attempting to knock the woman out of her shirshu’s saddle. The animal dodged with a quick duck and leapt toward the monk while flicking its tongue out at him. Distracted by a second dart shot from the woman’s crossbow, the monk was unable to avoid being whipped on his slender bicep by the venomous attack. He grunted in surprise and stumbled before falling in the dirt beside Genji.

“Angela, do not let it strike you!” he cried, his tongue clearly more operable than the prince’s. Genji groaned in frustration, his finger twitching in the grass, but failing to do anything more useful.

Angela used the water she carried with her in her flask to whip back at the creature, knocking its tongue away any time it tried to touch her. Although her movements were hardly those of a truly-trained waterbender, Genji couldn’t help but be impressed by her reflexes. Still, he doubted the shirshu would tire before she did.

Clearly unwilling to wait for it to get to that point, the woman jumped off her mount and landed beside the girl to kick her legs out from under her. She pointed down at her with her crossbow, her annoyance clear on her face. “Stupid girl,” she murmured, placing her finger on the weapon’s trigger.

Without warning, a large rock appeared from nowhere and struck her hard in the head, seeming to knock her out instantly. The shirshu reared back angrily and flicked its tongue, but didn’t hit anything before a pillar of stone erupted from the ground beneath it and launched it high into the sky. By the time it landed again, it looked thoroughly intimidated, pacing back and forth at a considerable distance while another stranger came into view.

Dressed in green, tan, and light brown, the young man was clearly a citizen of the Earth Kingdom, probably an earthbender judging by the show he’d put on for them. The edges of his garments looked worn, even tattered in some places, which suggested he wasn’t a particularly wealthy citizen, though Genji chose not to make that assumption, having never been one to dress “well” in the eyes of his family members. The man’s tanned face was shielded from the sun by a broad farmer-style hat and a full head of somewhat shaggy brown hair. The thick stubble on his chin showed he was trying to grow a beard, though his young age kept it from being truly impressive.

“Well, well,” he muttered in an easy, low drawl through his teeth while he chewed on one end of a long piece of grass, “if y’aint the strangest crew I ever seen.” He looked up and gestured to someone Genji couldn’t see. “Let’s get ‘em outta here, boys.” More Earth Kingdom youngsters appeared to join the earthbender, some of them moving toward Genji and the monk.

“Step back!” Angela demanded, her untrained stance ready with the water she controlled hovering in front of her, “I won’t let you harm them.”

The earthbender put one hand on his waist and tipped his hat with the other. “Beg yer pardon, Miss,” he went on, “but it’d be right ridiculous of me to rescue ‘em only to hurt ‘em. Don’t got a reason to help you, neither, but way I figure, that shirshu ain’t gonna stay out there fer much longer. You still want us to leave you be?”

“It’s alright, Angela,” Zenyatta told her from his collapsed position on the ground, “they must be from Omashu. They have no reason to hurt us, and I’m sure the excitement out here has made the residents of the outskirts uneasy.”

“Yer airbender’s got it right,” the earthbender added, “we don’t much like fightin’ so close to home.”

Angela sighed, returning her water to her flask. “Right…I should be thanking you.”

“Only thanks I need is a flash o’ that smile o’ yers,” the earthbender quipped, putting on a shit-eating grin to wink at her. Genji rolled his eyes, wishing his could move his leg to trip him. He gestured at the other Earth Kingdom boys again, who advanced to pick the prince and the monk off the ground.

Genji found himself being flung over a shoulder, confining his gaze to his rescuer’s back and the ground beneath them. He groaned, unable to keep his eye on the flirtatious scoundrel moving in on Angela. As soon as he had the use of his tongue again, he would set him straight…but until then he was forced to listen to his strange, but charming accent while he chatted with the girl on their way to the city.


	10. Chapter Ten

Genji grunted angrily upon being plopped unceremoniously in a worn cushion on the ground. The hut the earthbender and his group of…friends, or comrades, had brought them to was modest in construction and basic furnishings, but the presence of weapons ready to be used wasn’t able to escape Genji’s trained eye. He could see a door in the direction he was stuck looking, and it was partially open to reveal part of an anvil, suggesting the weapons had been homemade.

One of the other boys dragged in another cushion to set Zenyatta down before the earthbender dismissed him and the rest with a friendly wave, promising to catch up with them later. After directing Angela to a simple chair at a small table toward the center of the room, he looked between her companions, shaking his head with a pitying click of his tongue.

“You have our gratitude, friend,” Zenyatta began, though he still wasn’t able to move any more than Genji could, “once we have healed, we will impose on you no longer.”

Genji continued to limply glare up at the earthbending ringleader as he took his hat off and gave the monk a polite bow of his head. “Ain’t nothin’ stickin’ in my craw,” he said, most obligingly, while he used a pitcher to pour a cup of water for Angela, “you’ll be safe here fer a spell, and I won’t be kickin’ anyone out ‘til they can leave on their own, so you just make yerself comfortable.”

“You are most gracious,” Zenyatta replied with a calm smile. His serenity in the face of paralysis confused Genji to the point of frustration, but all the prince could manage to express it with was a muffled grunt.

The earthbender bowed his head again, then set his hat on the table to put his hands on his hips. “Now, I don’t mean to be nosy, but I gotta ask…who’re all o’ you to bring out a stone cold bounty hunter like Miss Lacroix?”

“I am Zenyatta, Tekhartha and wanderer,” the monk introduced himself, “I have made many friends, but possibly an enemy in my travels…but I would never have suspected I would be worth paying money to destroy.”

Angela nodded her agreement with Zenyatta’s sentiment, her hand still shaking a little as she took a sip of water to wet her throat. Genji knew who the bounty hunter must have been after, unless one of his two traveling companions hadn’t been entirely honest. “My name is Angela of the Southern Water Tribe” she said, “but I’ve always thought we were too far south to mean anything to anyone.”

The earthbender nodded, tilting his head just a little. “Well, then, I guess that just leaves the ornery one broodin’ in the corner, don’t it?” he drawled lazily while turning a critical eye on Genji, raising one eyebrow.

“His name is Genji,” Angela introduced him, though she refrained from saying anything more, much to his relief.

“Well…I never heard of anyone hirin’ a hunter ‘cause of a bad attitude, but I can’t say I feel too sorry fer him lyin’ down there like that.”

“Fehghoff,” Genji grunted at him in frustration, though he was instantly glad it was unintelligible for Angela’s sake. As much as he wanted the earthbender to back off, being outright rude to him would probably infuriate her.

The boy came to crouch next to him and looked over him quickly while shifting the grass he was chewing from one side of his mouth to the other. “Hold up,” he replied at last, reaching back behind Genji’s neck, “there’s yer problem.” The prince felt a prick as the dart that’d struck him was plucked from his skin. The earthbender showed it to him, shrugging. “That’s some rotten luck you got there, bein’ hit right in the throat,” he drawled, “I reckon you won’t be speakin’ for a while yet.” He grinned apologetically. “Beg yer pardon, Genji. I thought you were just bein’ rude.”

Genji grunted in response, looking off as far left as he could so he wouldn’t need to keep staring at his competition. To his relief, the earthbender rose and moved away…unfortunately, just before walking over to Angela.

“The name’s McCree,” the earthbender began while his back straightened. Even from his place on the cushion, Genji could tell the boy was much taller than he was, and built well with bare arms and shoulders full of lean muscle. He wanted to burn his stupid hat, or at least see if he could make him jump into the air with a good startle. “I mean, most call me ‘Reyes’ fer my Pa, only he says I best keep my name since ‘all he did’ was raise me,” he rambled on, flashing her another smile before releasing a short chuckle, “to keep it simple you can just call me Jesse.”

Angela set the cup down, her composure finally returning to her while she smiled back, politely without a hint of coyness. That was a good sign, Genji assumed, though he remained wary of the attractive stranger’s interest in her. “I don’t mean to question your kindness, but it seems strange to me that you would risk being paralyzed by that shirshu to rescue people you don’t know,” she pointed out, cocking an eyebrow, “for all you know, we could be dangerous criminals.”

Jesse shrugged, folding his arms. “I got an eye for that sort of thing…had some interestin’ hobbies, before Pa set me straight with a boot up the a—“ he cut himself off, clearing his throat, “up the rear. You ‘n yer monk friend look clean as silk to me. S’the Fire Nation kid who looks dangerous.”

Genji shifted just slightly, the first movement he’d managed since being struck by the hunter’s dart. He wanted to tell him just how shifty he looked himself, but his tongue continued to loll uselessly behind his teeth.

“Well, I don’t know how you could tell, but the war is still long over,” Angela reminded him critically, “Genji deserves to be judged for his actions, not his heritage.” Her words would have brought a smile to his face, if his nerves and muscles hadn’t been so numbed.

Jesse presented his hands disarmingly. “Don’t get me wrong, there, I’m just sayin’ Fire Nation natives tend to be a mixed bag when I come across ‘em. Ain’t seen enough o’ ‘em to read ‘em like I read most other people. Hope you won’t blame me for bein’ cautious.” He cleared his throat, shrugging a little before picking his hat off the table to put it back on his head. “Anyhow, I’ll leave y’all be fer now. Best get some rest.” With a grin and a tip of his hat, he sauntered back outside.

Angela smiled back at the earthbender before getting up to sit beside Genji on the floor, bringing her cup of water with her. With a wave of her hand, the water coated her hand and she began to check him over as she had many times while he was recovering from Hanzo’s attack. Despite himself, he treasured her attentiveness, though he couldn’t tell her so.

“I can feel the venom in your blood,” she murmured thoughtfully, raising an eyebrow in interest, “it appears to be leaving the very tips of your extremities.” She reached down to pick up Genji’s wrist with her free hand. “Are you able to move your fingers?” she asked clinically.

Genji tried, and was pleased to see the furthest joints of his four fingers obeyed his commands. Angela grinned, her eyes lighting up. “Wonderful!” she exclaimed, “you always did recover quickly.” She rested his hand gently on his thigh and winked quickly before she rose again to check on Zenyatta.

Genji watched her out of the corner of his eye while he waited. He continued to wait, frustrated, while Angela lied down to rest, the unexpected action having taken a toll on her. He couldn’t stop thinking about Jesse and his brazen advances on her. She was to fine for that, to be lusted after by some shady scoundrel with mannerisms just strange enough to be intriguing without being off-putting. He hated that he couldn’t help but be interested in his weirdness. It must have been all part of his plan.

Genji was able to move freely, if not stiffly, after an hour while Zenyatta was forced to remain sitting, but was able to turn his head and move one of his arms. The prince struggled to his feet and stretched, rolling his head. Angela remained fast asleep, and he couldn’t blame her; their long journey had been taxing enough without the threat of a bounty hunter on their tail.

“The venom may have lost its hold on you, Genji, but it would be wise for you to rest a while longer,” Zenyatta said after watching him move toward the door, “your muscles will no doubt be weakened by this ordeal.”

“I want to find our rescuer,” Genji replied, his voice harsher than he meant it to sound, “there are things we must discuss.”

“I am sure he did not mean to offend you,” the monk assured him, “please, do not repay his kindness with anger.”

“I don’t care what he said about the Fire Nation,” Genji hissed, stopping at the door to look back at him over his shoulder, “I just want to straighten something out, that’s all.”

To his surprise, a smile came to Zenyatta’s face and he tilted his head amusedly. “He is no threat to you, Genji,” he hummed, “you have nothing to fear from him.”

Genji scoffed. “I’m not afraid of him,” he replied defensively, “he just needs to know that Angela deserves more than to be drooled on by some cocky asshole with a stupid hat.”

Zenyatta chucked light-heartedly, shaking his head. “Genji, I assure you; you have _nothing to fear from him_ ,” he repeated emphatically with a cocked eyebrow. Genji got the sense he was trying to tell him something without saying it outright, but he couldn’t discern what it was. Frustrated, he tossed his head.

“Yes, he is the one who should be afraid if he thinks he can lay his hands on her,” he growled, storming out into the waning sunlight without waiting for another response. He knew it was a slight overreaction…but he didn’t really care about that. After all, he had some pent up energy to spend, and spending it on Jesse seemed constructive; two birds with one stone, as it were.

The area they’d been brought to was like a small town on its own, though it was considered a part of the larger city of Omashu. With the city center hidden behind walls a distance away, the outskirts looked entirely unrelated. It was quaint and homely at first glance, but he could see hints of un-refinement hiding in the alleys and dark spaces between small shops and homes.

Despite all the people going about their business in the streets, Genji couldn’t see a single guard or soldier, no one uniformed to express an orderly presence. Perhaps it explained why Jesse and his young friends had taken it upon themselves to handle the bounty hunter in the plains just beyond the furthest cottages. Of course, he made a point of setting that matter aside in his mind, at least until he’d made things clear between them.

He didn’t need to move before spotting Jesse leaned against the wall three feet from the door, a lit pipe in his mouth and his hat lowered to hide the top half of his face in shadow. Genji approached him and waited to be acknowledged, but wasn’t. He leaned down, slowly, to peer under the hat and caught him…sleeping. He smirked and reached out to flip the hat off his head, only to have his wrist grabbed in an instant, causing him to yelp.

“Who the hell--!?” Jesse exclaimed, tilting his head back to peer at him from under his lowered hat, his eyes wide and startled. He grinned and used his free hand to push the hat back again before releasing him. “Well, now, look who’s on his feet,” he murmured, shifting the pipe with his tongue, “didn’t mean to scare ya, there.”

Genji folded his arms, frowning excessively. “I am _not_ scared,” he declared indignantly, “you were the one sleeping in the open where anyone could attack.”

Jesse chuckled quietly. “Wouldn’t that mean I’m not scared, either?” he queried confidently. He shrugged, standing up straight again to pluck the pipe from his mouth, looking down at him. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“What?” Genji looked between him and the pipe, then shook his head, groaning. “ _No_ ,” he grumbled, “I need to have a talk with you, _McCree_.”

Jesse’s grin lessened a little, but didn’t vanish completely. “Oof, last naming me, huh?” he murmured, “here, I thought we might be friends.” He shrugged, putting the pipe back between his lips. “Guess I have the time if it’s important. Walk with me; it’ll be good to stretch yer legs. Will help the stiffness.”

The earthbender’s concern for his health in the face of his blatant hostility was aggravating. Why did he have to ooze charisma from every pore? The bastard. “Fine.”

They left the hut behind, proceeding through the crowds of a particularly busy street. Genji avoided saying anything until they were out of the thick of it, but he noticed how Jesse was leading him closer to the city walls, away from the open of the plains beyond. That hunter was probably still out there, somewhere, he knew. As much as he’d wanted to think Jesse was a fool for his friendly nature, it was clear he knew what he was doing. Unfortunately, it cooled some of his anger toward him before he got the chance to speak.

“So…Genji, right?” Jesse began thoughtfully, “what’s on yer mind?”

Genji grunted to clear his throat, glancing over at him for just a second. He seemed completely at ease. He had expected more apprehension from subjects of the Earth King in the presence of someone who would have been considered an enemy only a decade before. Perhaps he didn’t know he was a firebender, despite identifying his national origin on sight…or perhaps he was just that confident. Genji wasn’t sure which he preferred, but it came as a relief to him, regardless.

“Your flirting with Angela,” he stated, most of the fire gone from his voice, “it’s inappropriate. She deserves respect and a degree of delicacy, not cheap charms. I want you to stop.”

Jesse stopped, causing Genji to do the same. “I’m guessing it’s inappropriate because you found her first, right?”

Genji could feel his cheeks warming, fully aware he was blushing. “It’s more than that!” he hissed.

Jesse smiled warmly, nodding. “I know, I know,” he said calmingly, “I was just teasin’ you. Look, I can see plain as day that she’s a real special lady, especially to you, and I was just tryin’ to be friendly.”

“You said all the thanks you needed was a smile. Were you not trying to flatter her?”

Jesse laughed openly, hooking his thumb under his belt. “’Course I was tryin’ to flatter her,” he chuckled, “but that don’t mean I’m out to steal her honor or anythin’.” He shrugged lazily. “Don’t get me wrong; I like seein’ a pretty girl smile as much as anyone else, but…” he paused, the confidence in his bearing shrinking just a tiny bit, “let’s just say she ain’t my type. Little too, uh…dainty.”

Genji’s stance relaxed upon hearing that, though he found it hard to believe Angela wouldn’t appeal to any man. She was so beautiful and kind…and strong. He grunted to focus his mind and squinted at him.

“You prefer…girls built like mountains?” he asked, allowing a small hint of humor to leak into his voice. With the threat gone, he couldn’t help but behave more familiarly toward the boy who’d showed him nothing but kindness. It even crossed his mind that he might like him, just a little bit.

Jesse laughed again, holding his pipe to stop it escaping his teeth. “Whatever you say, pardner,” he drawled happily.

“Very well,” he said, “if they were only words, then you must expect something as payment for saving our lives. Do you want gold? I only have Fire Nation coins, but I’m sure they have some value here.”

Jesse let out a low whistle, a puff of smoke escaping his lips as he shook his head slowly. “I ain’t gonna say no if yer offerin’,” he said truthfully, “but it don’t seem right to ask fer money after savin’ someone who didn’t even ask you to.”

Somehow, Genji realized he wasn’t surprised. Finally, he let himself admit that he liked this earthbender. “I haven’t met many others with such an honorable, yet honest attitude,” he stated, impressed, “I don’t know if I should pay you to reward it or let you keep your uncelebrated hero status.”

“If we don’t tell anyone, you can do both,” Jesse murmured slyly, grinning again, “just remember it was yer idea.”

Genji let himself chuckle, handling some coins in his pocket. He grabbed a handful and pulled it out. “I remember you dropped this when you rescued us,” he lied playfully, placing the money in Jesse’s hand.

“Oh?” the earthbender replied, playing along, “thanks for returnin’ it. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone with such an honorable, yet honest attitude.”

Genji rolled his eyes at the good-natured jab and started to walk ahead, shoving both hands in his pockets as he walked. It wasn’t long before Jesse strode up beside him to continue their meandering path through the town, both of them traveling in a thoughtful, observant silence for a while. It wasn’t until they’d curved their way around to head back that Jesse spoke up again: “so, about that bounty hunter…”

“I’m not sure who she is, or why she came for us,” Genji replied quietly, neglecting to tell him about his suspicions, “we didn’t even know she was following us until she attacked, but…she must have been, unless she managed to track us through the swamp.”

“I wouldn’t put it past her,” Jesse replied grimly, “Lacroix’s made a name fer herself in these parts, and up near Ba Sing Se, too. She charges a lot, and fer good reason. I don’t think anyone’s escaped her yet. I mean, I ain’t tryin’ to scare you, but I only think it’s fair you know what yer dealin’ with.”

Genji shook his head dismissively. “No offense taken…in fact, I appreciate that.” He looked over at him, frowning, “I suppose we shouldn’t stay here much longer, if we want to leave her behind.”

Jesse nodded, looking off into the distance. “My group saw her slink off into the woods after she got up. She’ll need some time to recover from that knock I gave her, so I’d say you got about an hour to head out on the other side of town. Best stay out of sight ‘til you got the city between you and her, though.” He paused, grimacing. “N’ try not to bring any more attention to yerself,” he added, his voice low and dire, “it ain’t the safest place in here, neither.”

Immediately catching on that Jesse was referring to something specific, Genji took a quick look around. Acting casual, he scanned the people around them for anyone that stood out by trying to avoid notice. His trained eye spotted someone just before they shifted out of sight, their movements disciplined and graceful. The person he guessed was a man had been dressed in typical Earth Kingdom colors—shades of green, brown, and tan—but his demeanor wasn’t that of a commoner.

“Is there something we should be aware of?” Genji asked quietly, but in a light tone as if he was having a simple conversation. Jesse glanced around, then led Genji out of the open and into an alley.

“Not sure if it’s related, but there’ve been some shady folks hangin’ around this town for a while,” he explained in a whisper, “I mean, since the war the higher ups inside the wall pulled the guard back. Paranoid and selfish…but bottom line is there ain’t been trained soldiers around for a while, then these people show up. Me n’ my pa spotted ‘em immediately, tryin’ to sneak n’ spy. He said he thinks they’re from Ba Sing Se…not sure what they’re doin’ here, but I don’t like ‘em. And they been mighty interested in us the whole time we were walkin’.”

“What do they want from us?” Genji whispered back, his expression dark.

“Like I said, don’t rightly know…but I ain’t seen ‘em this interested since they got here. Tell you what, I’ll pick out some spare clothes fer you and yer friends, help you blend in a little more.”

“They…could be agents of your Earth King, sent to keep the peace,” the prince replied, unable to keep suspicion from leaking into his voice, “why would you be so eager to help us?”

“They ain’t here to help any of us,” Jesse growled, his voice unintentionally getting louder in obvious anger. Genji glanced to the end of the alley, wincing and hoping they didn’t attract anyone. The earthbender took a brief pause to control it again, then continued, “I seen a whole group of ‘em stand around like idiots while an old man and his son got attacked and nearly knocked out cold by a group of muggers. Didn’t lift a finger, not even when I got involved. Decided right then that I ain’t gonna let ‘em have whatever they’re after, don’t even care what it is.”

The prince nodded slowly, his mind wandering to his own home city. He hadn’t paid any attention to the realities of rule…and it occurred to him he didn’t even know if injustices like these were allowed to exist in the Fire Nation. Suddenly, he wished he’d been a better student, as much as he hated their tutor.

“That isn’t right,” he agreed.

“You betchyer ass it ain’t right,” Jesse replied emphatically, ushering Genji further down the alley, toward the other side. “Beggin’ yer pardon,” he added once they’d slipped out into a group of people waiting for their food at a street vendor’s stall, “they grind on my every nerve, but Pa says I should keep my temper. Let’s get you back and see how yer monk is doin’.”

“Thank you, McCree…Jesse,” Genji murmured, glancing over at him quickly to be sure he’d heard, “I hope we’ll have the chance to meet again, under better circumstances.”

Jesse gave him one of his charismatic smiles. “That’d be just fine by me.”

Genji’s focus was on their surroundings while they covered the rest of the short distance between the earthbender’s home and their position. He couldn’t think of any reason agents from the Earth Kingdom capital would be after him or any of his companions. Not even “Fire Lord” Hanzo should have had access to those kinds of resources, but he wasn’t going to risk it, not with a bounty hunter on their tail already. Leaving Omashu as soon as Zenyatta was able and staying far from Ba Sing Se would be the safest course, and he was eager to be under way.


	11. Chapter Eleven

The air became freezing cold long before the first signs of snow appeared on the ground below Iris, and as they traveled further north Genji was glad for the extra clothing Jesse had given them before they left Omashu. It’d taken them several days to reach the arctic region that preceded the North Pole, and the grand ice city of the Northern Water Tribe.

The journey had been a little more sober than the fun trip they’d been having before they realized they were being hunted. As much as Genji wanted to rid them of the problem once and for all, both Zenyatta and Angela were unwilling to risk Iris being paralyzed so far from civilization. He had to admit they had a point, especially when it started to get so cold. Carrying such a large creature for miles and miles on foot wasn’t an enticing prospect…besides, the warmth being radiated into the saddle from beneath her thick wool was something he wasn’t willing to give up.

They’d only seen Lacroix once since leaving Omashu, far in the distance, and it was clear that Iris was much faster than her shirshu despite everything that made it so formidable. That, at least, provided some comfort to Genji, though he wished he could just fix it with one good stab or blast.

They were flying over a seemingly endless expanse of arctic sea when the prince started to realize the tension was becoming too great for him. In an effort to lighten it he spoke up: “did you know my father wanted me to be a girl?” Both of them reacting exactly as he expected them to, they turned to face him with quizzical looks on their faces.

“What?” Angela asked first, leaning forward a little in interest.

Genji grinned, having come to terms with that little tidbit a long time ago. “Well, you know,” he went on, “Hanzo was already born, so he had his princely heir. What he wanted next was…more of political tool than a child. He was old fashioned that way, thinking princesses were so much easier to marry off.” Attempting to keep the mood light, he laughed while remembering some of the more ridiculous parts of his childhood. “I think he wanted his princess to marry the Earth King’s son who, by the way, is eleven years older than me and has the face of a horse.”

Zenyatta chuckled quietly. “How unfortunate,” he paused, raising an eyebrow, “for him, I mean. I am sure you would have been such a charming queen.”

Genji scoffed. “Is there any doubt about that? My beauty already knows no equal!”

Angela giggled at that. “ _That’s_ true,” she agreed emphatically, “I was jealous the moment I laid eyes on you. How can the rest of us girls compete with Princess Genji?”

Genji smirked and pretended to flip the luscious length of hair he didn’t have. “You can’t,” he declared haughtily. To his delight, the waterbender laughed even more.

“You’ve gone too far,” she warned him, still giggling, “now I’ll never be able to stop picturing it.”

Clearing his throat, the prince squared his shoulders. “Well, I hope it translated over,” he said, making it obvious he’d lowered his voice, “am I not the most dashing of princes?”

Her cheeks flushing a little, either from the cold or from something a little more promising, Angela rolled her eyes. “I guess competing with you isn’t fair, no matter who you are,” she teased with just a hint of honesty.

No longer feeling the cold after hearing her answer, Genji realized he was smiling a little too broadly and sighed, relaxing against the saddle’s edge. “I will try to rein it in, for everyone else’s sake,” he promised disingenuously.

“As one of your fellow men, I appreciate that,” Zenyatta chimed happily.

Just as he’d planned, there were at last smiles on faces that had done almost nothing but frown since leaving Omashu. His mission complete, he let the matter rest while memories of his youth rolled through his mind’s eye. He realized his father wasn’t as terrible a man as he’d begun to believe. He always had the Fire Nation’s future and well-being in mind, unfortunately at the cost of his sons’ favor. Even wanting an advantageous marriage between the two royal families was an extension of his duty, and unfortunately Genji’s sex had thrown a wrench in that plan. Perhaps that was where the resentment had started, but it wasn’t as if he’d ever tried to wash it away with his _good behavior_. There was no doubt he was a terrible father...but he could have been a great Fire Lord if his rule hadn’t been so short.

Unfortunately, that train of thought led to Hanzo in no time, though his mind, for once, didn’t immediately jump to his revenge. He was only five when he overheard his father admit his disappointment to his mother in an unguarded moment. He remembered being so upset he ran to Hanzo, who just laughed and said he would rather have a little brother than a little sister. It was so simple, but it’d made him feel wanted, whether Hanzo was aware he’d had that effect on him or not.

It was then he realized how uncharacteristic it was of Hanzo to turn on him like he had. It was something he could visualize his ever dutiful father doing, if he really thought he was a threat to the Fire Nation’s future. But Hanzo had always seemed to love him, and Genji knew he’d loved him back. Perhaps that was what hurt the most about it. For the first time, he considered the idea that he might’ve judged his brother too harshly. Briefly.

“Ah, it appears we have arrived,” Zenyatta announced, pointing ahead at a mass of white that stood out against the plane of dark blue around them.

The splendid city the Northern Water Tribe called home was located on the edge of the northernmost continent of the world, a landmass composed mostly of ice and snow that’d spread out over the arctic sea around it. It was so near the edge that there was no way to approach the expansive slab of ice that was its wall and gate on anything that wasn’t a boat or, in their case, a flying air bison. Zenyatta kept Iris hovering low, sure to let the guards patrolling the walls above know they had no intention of flying over their barrier without permission. The waterbenders in control of the gates didn’t open them upon their approach, forcing Zenyatta to hail them.

“We are travelers from the south,” he stated, addressing the guard just above them, “we have come to behold your fine city, and to receive training from one of your masters.” He gestured back at Angela, who waved sheepishly.

“I didn’t expect it to be so big,” she whispered in awe, vapor escaping her mouth with her words.

 The guard was dressed head-to-toe in shades of blue with a fur-lined hood and a dark azure scarf placed over the lower half of his face to protect him from the biting wind. His arms crossed over his chest, he looked far from welcoming. “The city is off-limits to outsiders,” he declared firmly.

“I do not understand,” Zenyatta replied hesitantly, putting Genji on guard with his uncertainty. Young as he was, the monk seemed to know nearly everything about the world from his many travels; hearing him unsure of something was unsettling. “I have traveled your streets many times. Why would the gates be closed to us now?”

“Chieftain’s orders: no one may enter while she is away from the city,” the guard grunted back, pulling one hand free to make a shooing motion, “leave or we’ll detain you until she returns to deal with you herself.”

“Those walls don’t look so impressive to me,” Genji muttered under his breath, “I could just melt them and give them something to think about.”

“I hope you’re kidding,” Angela whispered back.

“Only half; you still need a teacher, after all.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Genji, but I doubt even a firebending master would be a match for a city _full_ of waterbenders.”

“If you say so,” the prince muttered, leaning back on his hands. He knew she was probably right, but there was still that small part of him that would wonder. Zenyatta directed Iris to back away, then land on a floating slab of ice while they considered their next move. “What do we do now?” Genji asked, “maybe…one of the swamp people is a master? They might not be able to teach anything about the snow, but it’s the next best thing, isn’t it?”

“We may not need to travel all the way back just yet,” Zenyatta replied, his hand at his chin while he thought, “there is one master I know of who does not live within the city’s walls. She has chosen to leave most of the world’s affairs behind, but she may be willing to take a single student.”

“Where is she?” Angela asked eagerly.

“She lives among the nuns of the Western Air Temple,” the monk explained, smiling, “her daughter learns airbending from them and she, in turn, tends to their wounds and helps to defend the temple from harm. I know the girl well, but her mother is very driven and I suspect she simply does not wish to be found.”

“It’s worth a try,” Angela insisted, “if she refuses…perhaps I can return to the swamp on my own. Our journey has become so unfortunate. I think my quest has caused the two of you enough stress as it is.”

“Do not worry yourself,” Zenyatta chimed happily, “I have nowhere else to be.” He looked over at Genji. “Do you?”

Genji tried not to frown too much, fully aware of what the monk was really asking him. Since the time he’d helped him commune with his spirit dragon, Genji had been wondering when Zenyatta would bring it up again. He wanted to be sure he’d decided to forgive Hanzo…and he hadn’t. Of course, he didn’t need to know that. “I’m supposed to be dead,” he replied, grinning, “that means my time is my own, and I would like to spend it finishing this mission.”

Angela smiled gratefully at both of them, nodding her thanks. “In that case, we have our next destination.”

Zenyatta nodded as well, but his smile started to fade before he spoke again: “this, unfortunately, brings us to the matter of our pursuer. While the nuns are capable of defending themselves from attack, the air temples are places of peace and spirituality. I would never willingly bring a conflict to their doorstep.”

“Would she even be capable of tracking us out here in the ocean?” Angela asked hopefully.

“Why risk it?” Genji replied, “we could simply deal with her now and have nothing to worry about any longer.”

“There is already so much death in this world; I would hate to contribute to it,” the girl retorted, her eyes big, blue, and pleading. It was the one thing he knew of that he didn’t like about her, her insistence on sparing _everyone_ pain. He knew she must’ve seen a lot of people after the fact as a healer, but she would need to learn that fighting was sometimes necessary before her naiveté came back to bite her.

“Lacroix is dangerous,” he continued to argue, “and we don’t even know what she wants from us. What if her goal is to deliver us to people who will execute us? Do you think we should spare her then?”

“Sparing her is one thing, but hunting her down to kill her is vile!”

Zenyatta looked off into the west, shrugging a little. “It is possible she lost us after we left the Earth Kingdom behind,” he mused, “but even if she hasn’t, killing her may not be necessary. There are other ways to deal with a threat.”

“Then let us pick one of them,” Genji insisted eagerly, “any of them would be better than waiting for her to ambush us again.”

“What if one of us is paralyzed over the water?” Angela argued, “my waterbending isn’t strong enough to pull you out, and she can’t fly like we can. The western temple is north of the Earth Kingdom, isn’t it? We could simply go straight there, not even give her a chance to find our scent.”

“I must admit I am not eager to be powerless again,” the monk offered, frowning deeply, “especially not in such unfamiliar territory, where the chances of someone rescuing us are far less than they were in Omashu.”

“There’s no guarantee that’ll happen!”

“Perhaps not, but we’re a much bigger target than she is,” Angela pointed out, concern wrinkling her features, “it’s likely she will see us long before we see her.”

Genji groaned out a sigh, flopping back against the saddle in exasperation. “Do what you want,” he growled, “but if there’s a fight at the temple, just remember I tried to reason with you.”

“We will,” Angela promised stubbornly.

Genji had to admit to himself that he couldn’t remain angry at her in the face of such determination. That, after all, was one of the many things he _did_ like about her, and they seemed to cancel each other out in his mind. Still, he let himself pout a little longer as Iris took off to the southwest.

\---

Jesse ducked around the corner of his father’s cottage as soon as the man himself had turned his back on him and headed directly to the barrel of leather scraps they kept behind it. The scraps were all too small to use for armor or wrapping weapon handles, but they had rare uses from time to time, which provided Jesse with a perfect temporary hiding spot for his tobacco. “It’s bad for you”, his father would say, or, “you’ll do as I say while you’re squatting in my house” just before he’d confiscate the stash and it’d disappear forever.

Quickly snapping up the bundle of cloth he’d buried in the scraps, he flipped it open to find it empty…or not entirely empty. Grimacing, he pulled a note from the folds to read it: “You’ll have to try harder than that, dumbass.”

“Damnit, Pa,” he grumbled under his breath, crumpling the note to toss it as far as he could. Yet another pouch of coins was wasted by his father’s ridiculous rules. With a stomp, he shifted dirt over the offending paper to bury it deep with his bending, never to be seen again. He spared a second to wonder how many notes were already hidden throughout the area surrounding the hut. The man was like a hound trained to sniff out deception, and he hated it. Still, the more important matter was finding a way to replenish his stash without him finding out about it…again.

Grunting in frustration while sticking his empty pipe between his lips, he started out into the crowds moving through the streets and easily got lost among them. As much of a pain in the ass as his father was, he couldn’t deny the things he’d taught him came in handy often enough.

He could disappear when he wanted to, and knew how to use almost any weapon his father was capable of smithing, a skill most other earthbenders never took the time to learn. He’d always insisted that there might come a time when his bending wouldn’t be enough to ensure victory, and he was probably the only person he’d met with a will stronger than his own to back up the training sessions, which were not optional.

He had just spotted the herbalist’s shop when something—or rather, someone caught his eye. Among the everyday, boring throngs of people going about their business he couldn’t help but notice the one man towering above the rest, a man who had to be at least seven feet tall. The enormous blond man parted the crowd as he passed, making way for the two men who stayed close behind him, though they seemed to be hiding behind their companion. Or, perhaps, hiding wasn’t the word…but they were definitely relying on him to be the center of attention. As distracting as a man that size deserved to be, he turned his attention to the others curiously.

The man who took up the rear wasn’t as tall as the one in front, but was by no means a short one. Unlike the other’s, his blond hair had been cut short in a no-nonsense, but still quite flattering style. His bearing reminded him of his father’s, that of a soldier. He stood erect and alert, scanning their surroundings as they walked. Jesse could’ve sworn he looked familiar, but try as he might he couldn’t place him.

Turning his attention to the third, he felt his heart roll over. Never once had he seen such a striking visage, and the way he walked…he was like a moving statue. Although he stood shorter than his two companions, he walked with pride, his stance nothing short of regal. His dark hair was smooth and shining, giving Jesse the sudden urge to see if it felt as silky as it looked. And the creamy skin, the sharp nose…the keen, distrusting look with which he regarded the people around him. There was no denying he was dangerous.

Jesse was never one to hide the fact he was moved by pretty faces but…this beautiful young man had so much more. And yet, he knew by the way he carried himself he was destined to break his heart. Oh, but what an adventure it would be!

Trying to avoid staring too obviously, lest he draw the attention of the eagle-like bodyguard he had following him, Jesse inched his way closer until he was walking parallel to them, separated by several groups of people to evade suspicion. Although he knew better, he had to know who they were, why they were so different from everyone else. He had to say at least one word to the man who sent his heart racing before he could walk out of his life forever; just one toe to test the waters.

As he followed them without actually following them, he noticed the agents he’d placed weeks ago. They were moving, too…carefully, discreetly. Glancing toward the three, he knew they hadn’t spotted them yet. The agents were clever, and had it not been for his father’s pointing them out as soon as they’d arrived he wouldn’t have known what to look for. They were far more interested now than they had been when Genji visited two weeks prior. They were looking for someone specific from the Fire Nation, and it seemed they’d found him.

Jesse stopped when the group of three disappeared through the doorway of the inn. Old, humble, and crowded, the establishment was nothing compared to the hotels within the city walls, which were much more fitting places for a group like theirs. Of course, the way they were dressed made it obvious they were trying very unsuccessfully to blend in. Alerted by the way the agents were gathering around the building, he decided to wait for their next move.

It wasn’t long before the two tall blond men emerged from the inn, where they stopped to exchange a few quick words before dispersing in opposite directions. They, too, were looking for something. With the two guards gone, the third man was left alone, and that caused warning bells to chime in every one of Jesse’s senses. As he’d feared, the agents were starting to close in.

As casually as he could, he made his way toward the inn, slipping inside just as he spotted one of the agents leap in through one of the second-story windows. He was running questions through his mind, trying to decide how he could ask the proprietor which room the three men had rented, when he heard a crash upstairs. Without hesitation, he bolted up the stairs, listening for more noise to pick out the right room. After hearing a muffled cry and wooden crack from behind the third door, he burst his way through and, to his surprise, found it empty aside from the motionless forms of two men dressed in Earth Kingdom raiment, arrows protruding from their bodies.

The state of the room spoke of quite a fight, despite how quick it’d sounded, with the wardrobe meant to hold guests’ clothing fallen to the floor, one of its sides cracked and ready to give way. The window had been broken fully, and the hints of blood on the remaining shards in the frame hinted at where everyone else might’ve disappeared to, including the man he’d been looking for. Gathering his courage, he decided to follow with a clumsy leap to the adjacent rooftop, where he paused to look for the fight.

He spotted men running two rooftops ahead and wondered at how quickly they’d gotten away from him. He knew he wasn’t nearly agile enough to keep up with them, at least not on that level. He leapt off the shingles, calling a pile of loose dirt beneath him to cushion his landing, and took off running in the direction he’d seen the others head.

Jesse was pleased to find keeping up with them was easier with most people in the streets frozen in curiosity, watching the five men running across the rooftops with such ease. Weaving his way through them, he managed to keep track as they fought. At first, the pursuers attempted to grab at their quarry when they realized he was far from tiring, but most of their efforts were met with quick stabs from an arrow the regal man held in his hand. Once he’d gotten the opportunity, he pivoted, drew his bow, and fired in one fluid motion to fell one of the four remaining agents, causing his body to tumble into the alley below. Such grace!

Jesse yelped when he was shoved aside by none other than a fifth agent on the ground beside him. In a flurry of movement, the agent threw something toward the archer and Jesse looked up to see him lose his balance and begin to slide down the roof on his stomach. Jesse was shocked to see it looked like a stone hand had closed firmly around the man’s ankle. One of the men chasing him stomped and kicked upward, causing the clay shingles to ripple until they tossed his quarry forward and over the side of the roof where he tumbled to the ground between two shops. The agents were earthbenders!

Soon, more agents swarmed the alleyway, seeming to slide into place rather than running, and as Jesse ran toward them, one turned to face him, his expression deadpan, and brought a wall of stone up from the ground to block him, and anyone else, from entering. Growling to himself, Jesse ground his bare heel into the dirt and slid it forward while punching firmly, drawing rock up to form makeshift steps he used to climb to the top of the agent’s wall. He planted his palm firmly into the wall’s surface, but stopped when he saw what was happening beyond it.

Seven agents had surrounded the stunning man in the alley and, though they were trying to box him in with their earthbending, he was nimbly bouncing off their blocks and avoiding their attacks, making it look easy. Ready to step it up, the one who’d blocked him from entering brought up three slabs of rock at once, surrounding the man in a stone room while the others approached to subdue him. Again, Jesse concentrated on the wall beneath him, sensing through it for hints of metal. It was something he’d discovered in his spare time, while helping his father with the forge: metal was earth, and it was a lot more fun to play with. He drew iron dust from the dirt, the rock, and gathered it around him to solidify in slightly pointed pellets. Prepared, he looked up to target the agents, but again the man he was trying to rescue surprised him.

The Fire Nation archer leapt up to vault against one of the summoned walls, bouncing off of it to land on top above the men trying to capture him. He fired an arrow, striking one of them in the thigh, before leaping toward the other side to avoid being grabbed by one of their stone gloves. Whilst he was in the air, another arrow flew and nailed the one who’d sent it toward him in the throat.

And yet, as fearsome as the archer was, he was still only one man against six. It wasn’t long before one of the gloves had clamped on his wrist, forcing him to the ground. His teeth clenched, he was trying to free himself when another struck him in the head, pinning it against the earth firmly while the agents advanced on him, their earthbending stances ready to pile on if he continued to struggle.

Jesse had seen enough. He reached up to flick his hat back, the high noon sun glinting off the metal tip of his pipe as he spoke. “Wrong move.” The agents looked back at him, but failed to react quickly enough to stop his metal pellets from burying themselves in their bodies, each of them falling after one well-placed hit. Jesse smiled. “Like shootin’ fish in a barrel.”

Satisfied, he jumped down into the alley and clenched his fist, causing the stone hands to crumble into pebbles and release the archer. He knelt beside him, spotting blood on his temple. It was a nasty hit and, unfortunately, he wasn’t even sure he got to see his heroic rescue through the haze he must’ve been fighting through.

“You alright?” he asked, “can y’see me?”

The archer squinted up at him, but his eyes were clearly having trouble focusing on him. “Who…?”

Jesse shook his head, already hearing movement nearby. “Can’t talk now,” he stated urgently, “c’mon, darlin’.” He pulled the archer to his feet and supported him while they hurried toward the other side of the alley. With a twist of his ankle, he lowered the wall that blocked them in and stomped his heel into the ground, a swirl of sand flying up in response around them.  Jesse hurried the two of them out of sight while the dust was still settling around them, eager to cover their tracks.


	12. Chapter Twelve

The Fire Lord’s head was still swimming when the light of the sun disappeared. It took him longer than it should’ve to figure out he’d been brought inside a small, unrefined cottage, though it appeared cozy to his addled mind. Oddly enough, he didn’t mind its humbleness despite the conditions he was accustomed to. Of course, after traveling as a commoner for so long, his expectations had begun to shrink.

The young man who’d come to his aid against the earthbending agents helped him to sit down in a modest wooden chair, a small table in front of him.

“I must find my companions,” Hanzo managed to slur out, trying to will his head to clear quicker. He reached up to hold the wound on his temple and found it’d been bleeding. “They will be worried if they return to find me absent.”

It’d been a simple mistake to let one of the benders’ attacks through, and even that small failure was enough to enrage him toward himself and his situation. Had he still possessed the power of the dragon, he certainly wouldn’t have needed _rescuing_. Just thinking of that word was infuriating.

The young earthbender sat across from him at the table, a cloth in hand, and set a cup on the table before he reached out to take hold of his wrist. His heart doing somersaults in his chest, Hanzo yanked his hand away, but didn’t stop him from pressing the cloth to his wound. Nobody had ever just touched him like that, especially not without his permission. As much as it offended him, he realized his reaction was more about how it’d made him…nervous. Why, he didn’t know.

 “Li’l jumpy, there?” the boy asked, “I ain’t gonna hurtcha, alright? Try to relax.” The grin on his face only served to make Hanzo that much more nervous. It wasn’t a grin that bore any signs of malice or mischief, but it didn’t seem entirely innocent, either. It certainly didn’t help that he knew nothing of his motivations.

“I cannot remain here,” the Fire Lord insisted, shifting his eyes to stare at the wall and avoid meeting the earthbender’s gaze, “if you truly wish to help me, you will take me back to the inn.”

The earthbender chuckled, shaking his head while he peeked under the cloth to check if the bleeding had stopped. Seeing that it had, he lowered his arm. “Ever heard of the word ‘please’? You oughtta try it out sometime; helps people like you a bit more.”

Hanzo grimaced at him. For a second or two, he chewed on the inside of his lip…then forced it out: “please.”

The earthbender clicked his tongue against his teeth, a mock pitying expression across his face. “That one really hurtchya, dinnit?” His grin grew at the same pace Hanzo’s frown deepened.

“Why would you endanger yourself to help me?” the Fire Lord asked, hoping to distract him, “do you know who I am?”

“Not a clue,” the earthbender replied flippantly, shrugging a little, “but I can’t resist a pretty face.”

The unexpectedly forward reply was enough to make Hanzo’s cheeks go bright pink, and he was painfully aware of it. Whether it was embarrassment or rage, he wasn’t entirely sure…but he was sure he wished he was somewhere else in that instant. “I beg your pardon?” he hissed.

“Ain’t no one ever told ya you got a symmetrical face?” the young man asked, a smirk across his lips, “nicely-shaped cheekbones? An attractively severe brow and sharp jaw?”

“Enough!” Hanzo blurted, feeling his cheeks flush even more.

The earthbender leaned away, nodding. “Alright, alright,” he drawled, “you stay here n’ get yer wits back around you, I’ll go out and find yer friends. Ain’t safe fer you to go back out there again just yet; those agents’re all over town.”

Hanzo sighed reluctantly, trying his hardest to stop frowning. The young man hadn’t been particularly rude to him, but he seemed to enjoy how uncomfortable he was, which meant he needed to wipe all signs of discomfort from his outward appearance, at once! Normally, he would assume anyone appearing to be so friendly toward a stranger to be a fool, but such a clearly skilled bender deserved more respect than that. Still, the fact the he sort of liked how he’d described him was confusing. No one had managed to flatter him quite like that before, though not for lack of trying.

Gathering himself, he nodded slowly. “That seems the wisest course, if what you say is true,” he admitted matter-of-factly in an attempt to appear more composed than he felt.

Unexpectedly, his answer seemed to please him even more. He was incorrigible! “Then we have a deal,” the earthbender drawled happily, offering his free hand to him. “The name’s Jesse McCree, by the way,” he continued, “didn’t exactly get the chance to say that when we first met.”

“A pleasure,” Hanzo replied unenthusiastically, determined to make his stupidly charming smile shrink, even just a little. To his dismay, McCree didn’t waver. His hand still lingering expectantly, he raised an eyebrow at him. Given the risk of seeming childish, Hanzo relented and took his hand to shake it. He would need to give him a name, but he couldn’t risk exposing his family name to him. That meant he’d need to give him his first name…how irksome. “I am Hanzo,” he grunted at last.

McCree reached up to touch the brim of his hat. “Mighty fine to meetcha, Han,” he quipped, causing Hanzo to grimace again. And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to tell him not to call him that. Somehow, it seemed worse to let him use his real name.

“If you are done staring, my companions must still be searching for me,” he reminded him stubbornly.

McCree chuckled again and, to Hanzo’s surprise, there appeared to be the faintest blush coloring his cheeks when he stood up. “I hear ya. You sit tight, now.”

Hanzo avoided watching him leave, though the corner of his lip turned upward in a small smile. The blush was a good sign; it meant McCree wasn’t the only one capable of getting a reaction, and knowing he wasn’t at a complete disadvantage helped to ease some of the discomfort in being alone in an overly-forward commoner’s house.

His head already starting to clear after taking several sips of the water the earthbender had put in front of him, he gathered the strength to stand, only wobbling a little before he felt confident on his feet. Fully aware it might’ve been considered rude, he found himself snooping around the house, if only to be sure there were no obvious signs of danger. He could see the door to the next room was hanging slightly open and headed toward it.

Weapons sat in racks all along the walls of the room, only some showing evidence of wear from use and even that was faint. The anvil toward the room’s center explained it easily: either McCree was a blacksmith, or the workshop belonged to someone who lived with him in the cottage. Intrigued, Hanzo went to look over the freshly-crafted weapons to see they appeared to be made with quite some skill.

Taking an Earth Kingdom-styled dagger off one of the racks, he gently turned it over in his hands, admiring the leather braiding on the hilt and the quality of its edge. It would’ve been sufficient for even the remarkably high standards of the Fire Nation army. Having a weapon to replace the crude knife he’d lost on the Ember Island dock would’ve been nice, but he was certainly no thief. Reluctantly, he replaced the artfully-crafted dagger on the rack.

Although he’d resisted the urge to help himself, he couldn’t help but jump guiltily when someone suddenly thumped the cottage’s front door open as if trying to make a statement. He hurried back to the door to the main room, but didn’t rush outside for the sake of caution. Peeking out from behind the door, he let a relieved breath out upon seeing McCree in the company of Commander Morrison and the former Lieutenant Reinhardt.

As soon as he’d made himself visible, the largest of his two allies rushed to his side, his one eye wide and fixed on the side of his head. He had his hands out as if he wanted to scoop him up and tend to him, though he was thankfully resisting it.

“Do not fuss over me as if I were a child with a scraped knee,” Hanzo warned him, backing up a step.

“This is an outrage!” Reinhardt cried nonetheless, “who has dared injure you!?” His suspicions suddenly obvious, he whipped his head around to glare daggers at the earthbender who, despite his normally casual bearing, actually took a step back in intimidation. Hanzo could hardly blame him; Reinhardt’s mere size was scary enough when he wasn’t openly angry.

“Woah, woah,” McCree murmured, his hands raising defensively.

“Lieutenant,” Hanzo interrupted authoritatively, suddenly moved to return the earthbender’s kindness, “this man risked himself to aid me in battle.” He paused, allowing a smile to show. “And for that he has my gratitude.”

McCree’s pleased smirk in response drove the smile away instantly, but Reinhardt seemed unaffected by the change. “Then he has mine as well!” he declared while plopping one giant hand on the earthbender’s shoulder, making him stagger at the added weight. “A generous young man is rare these days. You should be proud, as should your father!”

Regaining his balance, McCree looked between him and the commander curiously. “Uh, thanks.”

Jack stepped forward, respectfully bowing his head toward Hanzo before turning his attention back to their new acquaintance. “Speaking of your father, he’s actually the person we’ve been looking for,” he said, to Hanzo’s surprise, “do you know where he is or when he’ll be back here?”

Cocking an eyebrow, McCree took another look between the two tall blonds, the gears in his head obviously turning. “Wait,” he began cautiously, “yer…Reinhardt?” His eyes round as saucers, he stared at the commander in disbelief. “Jack!?”

Jack smiled fondly, raising a hand in a quick wave. “How’ve you been, kid? Guess I shouldn’t be surprised you didn’t recognize us after all this time.”

The earthbender let out a low whistle and grinned broadly, pushing his hat back on his brow. “Well, well, I ain’t see you ‘round here since I was…well, a lot smaller n’ I am now,” he drawled, “didn’t expect t’see you again, neither, seein’ as yer s’posed to be the Fire Lord’s guard commander n’ all.” He looked over at Reinhardt, shrugging. “And I ain’t heard nothin’ ‘bout you. Part o’ me thought you just disappeared into the ether.”

Reinhardt let out one of his booming laughs and Hanzo could’ve sworn he heard the old wooden beams supporting the ceiling quake a little. “Now that would’ve been quite the feat for someone as large as me!”

McCree laughed, too, though not nearly as loudly. “Glad t’see it ain’t true,” he replied, still grinning unstoppably, “world’d be a sadder place without you to pick it up.”

 Although he’d been smiling throughout the reunion, Jack’s expression revealed he had other thoughts on his mind before his grin finally started to shrink. “I’m sorry to break this up, but time is…in short supply right now,” he began, looking over at Reinhardt, who nodded his agreement.

“As much as I would’ve wanted this to be a social call, recent events will not allow it,” the large man explained, “we have come for duty’s sake.”

McCree titled his head, looking between the two while shifting his unlit pipe from one side of his mouth to the other in thought. “Duty, huh?” he repeated, “ _yer_ duty, Jack? I thought yer duty was to…” his sentence trailed off while his gaze wandered over to Hanzo, who instinctively clenched a fist in preparation to defend himself. Clearly, the earthbender wasn’t as big a fool as he appeared. After a second or two that felt like hours to the anxious Fire Lord, McCree smiled once again. “Guess that explains the attitude, don’t it?” he mused, pausing briefly just to wink at him, much to his chagrin, “and the resistance to flattery. Color me impressed.”

“It is very important that no one discover he is here,” Reinhardt stated.

McCree nodded knowingly. “Figured as much after that attack in broad daylight,” he replied, “I tried my best to cover our tracks, n’ yer secret’s safe with me, but…I’m not sure Pa will be as understandin’; he ain’t exactly a fan, bein’ a former Earth Kingdom soldier n’ all.”

“Gabe’ll be willing to support anyone if the cause is just,” Jack assured him, clearly more for Hanzo’s sake than anyone else’s. Relieved, the Fire Lord let his fists unwind a little.

As if in response to Jack’s declaration, the door flew open to reveal a man of the same stature as the formidable commander. He was dressed in a sleeveless green tunic that exposed impressively-toned arms with sparse scarring, revealing he was no stranger to battle, and his dark brown hair was partially hidden by a square of tan cloth wrapped around his head. The color of his hair paired with his caramel skin presented a strong contrast to the very fair Morrison, and the look on his face was hardly one of pleasure as he regarded him.

“Gabriel Reyes,” Reinhardt greeted him, smiling in a way that, for once, looked unsure, “how good it is to see you again.”

“Reinhardt,” the man growled in acknowledgment of his presence before he turned a dangerous glare on Commander Morrison, “ _Jack_. We need to talk.”

Hanzo watched, surprised, while the man he’d been told was a friend of the commander grabbed hold of him and practically dragged him from the room. He looked between McCree and Reinhardt, for once feeling like he knew the least out of everyone in the room. He didn’t like that feeling.

“Should we not be concerned?” he asked, “the commander told me we came here to meet one of his old friends, but that hardly seems to be the case.”

McCree and Reinhardt both looked at him, the latter looking fully amused, as if what he’d said was completely outlandish. “Commander Morrison was not entirely honest with you,” the large man replied, laughing afterward.

The way both of them treated it so lightly after the fury that’d been on Reyes’s face twisted Hanzo’s expression in anger. “I’m glad you find it so funny that my most trusted officer would lie to me,” he growled threateningly.

McCree’s hands flew up defensively, a casual smile on his face nonetheless. “Now, hold up,” he replied, “it ain’t so much a lie as…well, an incomplete truth. See, they started as friends, then it became a…relationship.”

Hanzo narrowed his eyes at him, still annoyed at the idea that he wasn’t given all the information he should have had. “What kind of relationship?” he demanded. To his surprise, the earthbender seemed to be caught off guard by the question, as if he hadn’t even tried to think of an answer to it beforehand. Why he would mention something in vague terms and not even consider that he might need to elaborate on it puzzled him. “Do you need more time to think,” he taunted him expectantly, “or will you have an answer for me before night has fallen?”

“My lord,” Reinhardt began carefully, seeming confused himself, “do you not…see what he is saying?”

“What am I supposed to see? He will not open his mouth.”

“It was a _romantic_ relationship,” McCree blurted at last, answering Hanzo’s question with an entirely unexpected explanation.

Hanzo hesitated at first, trying to think of anything more plausible than the very obvious meaning of McCree’s words. A romantic relationship. What else could that mean? Commander Morrison and Gabriel Reyes were…romantically…impossible!? “A romantic relationship between two…” he murmured, expecting McCree to clarify even further before he could finish the sentence.

Instead, McCree smiled again. “What, you ain’t heard of it before?” he asked, “must be pretty sheltered in that palace o’ yers.”

Hanzo looked away, fully aware his cheeks were flushing. He was always guarded, always prepared but…not for something like this. It was a subject he’d thought on before, carefully and privately, but it certainly wasn’t one anyone in the palace was willing to talk about out loud. That much had been made clear to him when his father scolded him extensively for bringing it up when he was younger.

“Where I come from it isn’t accepted,” he replied, “especially not for any member of a noble house, particularly the royal family.” When he looked back at McCree, he was staring at him with some idiotic smile on his face, as if he thought he knew more than Hanzo had actually said. He realized he might’ve chosen his words indelicately. “I am…referring merely to how it is seen,” he added, “nothing more.”

Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to rub away whatever ideas McCree had gotten into his head, though he leaned back a little to show he wasn’t going to push it. Stubbornly, Hanzo shifted his gaze over to Reinhardt to see he was also staring at him, his one remaining eye widened in interested disbelief. What had he said!?

“You said your father was once an Earth Kingdom soldier,” Hanzo began, eager to put some other thought in their minds.

“That’s right.”

“Then you are telling me Commander Morrison engaged in romantic activities with an enemy combatant during a time of war.” Luckily, his change of subject seemed to work. McCree’s sly smile and Renihardt’s suspicious gaze were both replaced with nervous shock when he looked back up at them.

Rubbing his hands together anxiously, McCree tried to grin. “It’s a…little more complicated than that,” he assured him, “see, Pa’s got this whole story about—“

Hanzo simply chuckled, folding his arms, while he imagined the ever dutiful Morrison setting it all aside for love. He would have never thought it possible, though he couldn’t be angry about it despite all the rules he’d broken.

“So wait, yer not mad?” McCree asked cautiously.

Hanzo shrugged shallowly, his arms folded over his chest. “That war was a ridiculous affair,” he replied confidently, “if I were Fire Lord during that time it would never have taken place.”

Reinhardt grinned proudly, sitting up straight. “Ah,” he breathed contentedly, “the future of the Fire Nation is bright with you at its helm, my Lord.”

Hanzo didn’t reply, though he appreciated the sentiment. He would have liked to believe it himself, but he’d managed to lose the palace and his bending all before his first month as the nation’s ruler had ended. He couldn’t say he had faith in himself, despite all the years of work he’d put into learning his father’s trade. And yet, there was no one left to take his place. He’d been such a fool.

McCree’s chuckle pulled the exile from his brooding, much to his relief. “You really had me goin’ there, for a second; I thought I got the former apple of my dad’s eye in trouble with his boss.” He let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “I woulda been in for one hell of a beatin’.”

“Surely, Gabriel does not _beat_ you,” Reinhardt rumbled indignantly.

“Well, I guess that was a bit of an exaggeration,” the earthbender admitted with a shrug, “but he sure ripped me a verbal new one last time I helped a buncha strangers. They had a firebender with ‘em, too. Guess yer comin’ here two weeks later explains why those agents were so interested in him.”

“Only a group of idiots would mistake a traveling firebender for the Fire Lord,” Hanzo murmured, rolling his eyes.

McCree flicked his pipe with his tongue, raising an eyebrow. “I dunno; I can’t say I really blame ‘em. He had a bearin’ about him, too, but it weren’t nothin’ like yers. You walk into a room n’ everyone’s gonna take notice.” He chuckled. “Might wanna work on that, by the way. I’ll help if ya let me.”

Hanzo frowned excessively. “I hope you understand I mean no offense in saying I would look like a dragon pretending to be a lemur if I attempted to behave the way you do. I do not intend to make a fool of myself.” He saw Reinhardt wince out of the corner of his eye and realized that might’ve come out a little harsher than he intended. “That is to say it would not suit me, not that you are like a lemur,” he added, sighing. It was the closest he would allow himself to come to an apology, for fear of earning himself more presumptuous teasing. It was clear McCree didn’t need any encouragement in that area.

The earthbender leaned back against the wall and pulled his pipe out of his mouth before pushing his hat back on his brow, his lips pursed in thought. “Suit yerself,” he said with a chuckle, “looks like I got my work cut out fer me anyway.”

Hanzo opened his mouth to ask what “work” he meant, but decided against it immediately. Somehow he was sure the answer would irk him, regardless…especially if it was an answer he actually liked. He had to admit that McCree had charm, as unrefined as he was, and that he wasn’t entirely immune to them. Having to consciously resist it would be extra work, and for the moment it was probably best he didn’t know.

\---

Jack remained silent, despite the firm grip Gabe had on his bicep, while he pulled him out of the room and into the next, throwing the door shut behind them. He practically tossed him in front of him, though the commander wasn’t easily thrown. Jack spun around to face him, trying to keep his anger in check. He knew things between them hadn’t ended in the rosiest of ways, but the hostility seemed a bit much.

“What the hell are you doing here, Morrison?” Gabe demanded in a growl, “and why are you pulling my kid into your bullshit? He has enough trouble staying out of it on his own!”

Jack couldn’t help but feel a little guilty about the reason he came in the face of his _old friend_ ’s rage, but there weren’t a lot of options left to him, and he had his duty to fulfill. Sighing, he decided to just get it out there: “I…need your help.”

“ _What_? You come here after, what, almost ten years of nothing and ask for my help?” Gabe laughed humorlessly, shaking his head, “you got a lot of nerve.”

Jack steeled himself, folding his arms to return his glare with as level-headed a gaze as he could manage. “The palace was attacked,” he went on to explain, refusing to be dissuaded, “I had to get the Fire Lord out and somewhere safe until I could think of a way to—“

“The Fire Lord?” Gabe interrupted in a low hiss, “you’re telling me you brought _the_ _goddamn Fire Lord_ to my house? Hell, why should I care who sits on the Fire Throne? Better yet, why should I help some stuck-up brat who somehow got his hook in Jesse’s lip?”

“What?”

“He’s a foolhardy eighteen-year-old ingrate with a vigilante fixation; he’s not the hardest book to re—that’s beside the point! This is exactly the sort of crap I gave up when I retired from the army, and exactly the sort of crap you gave up the right to ask of me when you left!”

Jack let a long, exasperated breath out through his nostrils, wishing he could just slap the belligerence out of him. “It’s my _job_ , Gabe,” he growled back, “I don’t have a lot of people left to trust, and you’re one of them. Will you at least hear me out?”

The darker man scoffed while an annoyed-looking smile twisted his lips. “Your job,” he repeated, the sudden calm in his tone belying what Jack knew was still beneath the surface, “you mean the job you were so eager to get that you had to disappear without a word to me or Jesse? You know how many times he asked me why you weren’t around anymore? Poor kid couldn’t grasp the concept for years.”

Jack’s brow smoothed, his eyes widening a little when he realized what was really going on. Gabe wasn’t mad he was asking for help after so many years…he was mad he left. In the rush of activity following his return to the Fire Nation, he’d forgotten to send word to him. For the longest time, he’d simply thought Gabe didn’t care enough to contact him again, but it’d never crossed his mind that he might’ve started the neglect himself.

“I never told you?” he murmured, feeling sheepish at the realization.

“You didn’t tell me anything.”

Jack cleared his throat, his arms tightening over his chest. “It was my father,” he said quietly, “he died about a week and a half after I got back. I didn’t realize I never…”

Instantaneously, the fire vanished from Gabe’s countenance. Looking almost disappointed in Jack’s explanation, he averted his gaze. “Damn…I guess that makes me the asshole, huh?” he replied apologetically.

“I should’ve written.”

Gabe sighed, his shoulders relaxing. “Yeah, you probably should’ve,” he replied. There was a moment of silence between them while both set aside the verbal weapons they’d been preparing for a fight that wasn’t going to continue. At last, Gabe spoke up again, “so, did you know the people hunting you were Dai Li?”

Jack cocked an eyebrow while pausing to chew on his lip. He’d heard of the Dai Li before, particularly during the war when Fire Nation officers gathered their men to discuss what they might face when taking Ba Sing Se. Of course, the war effort never got that far, but he’d heard enough to know the group was clandestine and elite, trained by Avatar Kyoshi long, long ago. They should have been in Ba Sing Se with the Earth King they served, not in the outskirts of Omashu.

“What are the Dai Li doing here?” he wondered aloud, “the Earth King would’ve sent them, right?”

Gabe leaned his left shoulder against the wall, looking almost amused by the question. “They’ve been here a while, and it looks like they were waiting for you three,” he replied as if it should have been obvious, “I think the more important question is ‘why are they out to get the Fire Lord?’ Unless there’s some lingering political tension I haven’t heard anything about, the Fire Lord should be free to go where he pleases.”

Jack’s eyes widened as he connected the pieces in his mind, something he realized he should have done immediately. “Akande,” he growled.

Gabe’s interest piqued at hearing the name, he stood up straight again, folding his arms. “What about him?” he demanded.

Jack’s face somehow managed go grimmer than it’d already been while he shook his head in a mixture of shame and disgust. Of course the earthbending master, known war hero of the Earth Kingdom, would have connections in his home nation…of course, he never would have thought he’d have the Earth King’s ear as much as he’d had Fire Lord Sojiro’s. He must’ve been planning the Fire Nation’s downfall for years.

As a former officer in the Earth Kingdom’s army, Gabe had seen Akande in battle just as he had. The hatred of his flawed ethics and brutality were one of the few things they agreed on when they first met, back when he’d convinced Gabe to help him stop Akande’s agents from sacrificing a village in the name of military strategy, the very war-torn village where they’d found a child Jesse, orphaned and scared. It might’ve been enough to get Gabe tried for treason, if they’d been caught in the act. He doubted, even after all the years between, Akande even knew then who was responsible for it.

That was all a long time ago…and after the war they’d only been together a short time before his father’s failing health called him home. He’d been so busy since then the time seemed to have gone in a flash, but looking at Gabe again…he realized how much he missed him. He should’ve written.

“Akande staged a coup in the palace,” he explained bluntly, pushing those thoughts aside for the moment, “he’s the one who forced us into exile, the reason we’re on the run. He’s been trying to capture the Fire Lord so he can use him as a mask while he solidifies control of the palace.” His hand slipped unconsciously toward where the still-healing wound on his back was hidden beneath his clothing. “Almost killed me, too,” he added, briefly remembering how it felt. It wasn’t the worst pain he’d been through in his life, but the knowledge that he was going to die in a moment of pristine failure had made it so much worse.

“Christ, Jack,” Gabe hissed incredulously, “you didn’t tell me it was that bad.”

“I said the Fire Lord was forced from his own palace and you didn’t think it was ‘that bad’?” the commander retorted, “where did it become ‘bad’ for you?”

“ _Alright_.”

“Anyway, Akande must’ve organized for the Dai Li to hunt us here, somehow, but from what I heard that shouldn’t be possible,” Jack went on, scratching the stubble on his chin absent-mindedly, “he must’ve found a price they couldn’t refuse. Probably came straight out of the royal treasury, too.”

“Well, you can count me in on your plan, if you have one,” Gabe replied, setting his hand on the table to lean on it, “you do have one, right?”

The corner of Jack’s mouth turned upward and he placed his hands on his hips smugly. “I thought you said you didn’t care who sat on the Fire Throne.”

Gabe scoffed, looking away from him. “I do, if it’s Akande. That man shouldn’t be allowed to sit on any throne, Fire Nation or otherwise.”

Jack’s smile softened, actually revealing some genuine pleasure at finally having Gabe’s support. It was a small victory, but it already felt as if things were looking up. As much as he would’ve liked to remain professional about it, he couldn’t help but let his personal feelings lift him up a little more than they had any right to. Gabe wasn’t going to turn the tide single-handedly, a fact he was fully aware of…but damn did it feel good to have him on his side again.

“I missed this,” he allowed himself to admit aloud. He grinned, deciding to be just a little more honest: “you, I mean.” He chuckled quietly to himself, looking away. He probably sounded like an idiot to him. “We had a good—“

Gabe’s lips stopped his confession mid-sentence, shocking him thoroughly. He’d been casually thinking of when--if he should make his first move, but the blacksmith apparently thought it was his turn this time. It was a short kiss, but ended tenderly when Gabe slowly pulled away. “You’re awful at flirting,” he stated, “and, _I mean_ , the worst at it.”

Jack couldn’t resist grinning openly, the surprise having been too pleasant. “I wasn’t trying to—“

“Shut the hell up, Morrison,” Gabe whispered, interrupting him a second time. Before the commander could protest at being cut off, he kissed him again, cupping the back of his neck with his hand.

That time, it was Jack who pulled away, carefully. He was determined not to let anything go too far with such a dire situation still haunting him, despite his own desire to pull the other man closer against his body. It was tougher than he thought it would be. “I thought you were pissed.”

Gabe smirked, but pulled his hand off his neck, catching on to Jack’s mood quickly, as he always used to. Just that little sign of how things used to be filled Jack’s heart with warmth, but he continued to repress his desires in favor of the task at hand. “I was,” Gabe replied, “at least, until I realized you were just acting as the same selfless goody good that brought us together in the first place.” He took a step back, taking some of the heat off Jack, even with just a little added distance between them. “So, what’s your plan?”

Jack crossed his arms over his abdomen while leaning back against the edge of the table. “I’m going to form a strike team, retake the palace, and lock Akande up for good,” he answered confidently.

Gabe snorted, shaking his head. “That’s not a plan, that’s a goal.”

Jack shrugged, nodding a little to concede the point. “Then I don’t have a plan…yet. It’ll all depend on who we can find and what happens between then and now. Recon, news from the palace, the public’s perception; it’s a work in progress.”

Gabe laughed quietly, slapping his shoulder. “Don’t sweat it,” he replied, “my plans were always better, anyway. Who do you have so far?”

“Other than us, Lieutenant Reinhardt and the Fire Lord himself.” Jack paused to wince, not relishing the task of having to explain Hanzo’s peculiar state after having such a fun time with Reinhardt, who’d been thoroughly appalled and outraged to hear there was a witch in the palace. It’d taken all of his and Fire Lord Hanzo’s efforts to keep him from bellowing the news loud enough for the whole tavern to overhear. “And…the Fire Lord can’t firebend,” he admitted reluctantly, adding quickly, “right now.”

Gabe raised an eyebrow at that but, to his relief, didn’t press for more information. “Well, to start, we’re going to change the end of _your_ plan to ‘kill Akande’. We let him live and he’ll just pop back up again like a roach.”

“There are rules, Gabe. Even traitors get trials.”

Gabe’s gaze went dangerously dark, revealing just how much he was willing to bend on that point. “This one won’t,” he insisted, “he’s earned the death penalty five times over in my book.”

Jack returned his stare, though he couldn’t help but feel the same way about it. Akande was the kind of man who didn’t give up when he wanted something, and even Guard Commander Morrison had to wonder if a jail cell would stop him. Still, upholding the nation’s laws was part of his job. “We’ll see,” he relented at last, “just don’t ask me to make any promises about it yet.”

“Right,” Gabe muttered, the darkness in his countenance fading, “let’s get started.”


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Angela watched the ground fall out beneath them as they flew over the edge of a cliff, the sharp rocks below foreboding enough to make her shrink back behind the lip of the air bison’s saddle to avoid staring down at them any longer. She hugged her arms nervously, unwillingly imagining what it would be like if Iris were to simply disappear out from under them. She jolted a little when she felt an arm on her shoulder and looked over to see Genji sitting next to her, smiling.

“How can you be so happy?” she asked, “one wrong draft and we could end up falling down there. Winds are dangerous around cliffs and canyons, you know.”

“Do you not trust Zenyatta and Iris?” the prince asked, shrugging, “besides, all you have to do is hold on to me.”

Angela smiled back, though her warm cheeks told her she might be blushing a little. Genji was hardly the most handsome young man she’d ever met with his many scars he wouldn’t allow her to heal, but his royal manners made up for that easily. The boys in her tribe were just that: boys. It was nice to be around a man who showed her caring and respect, but was still able to make her laugh when things were dire. It could easily have been that she was only around him and Zenyatta for so long, but he seemed to get more handsome every day.

They both looked over when Zenyatta began waving from Iris’s head where he held the reins. Far ahead of them was a massive cliff face shrouded in fog, but with effort Angela was able to peer past it and see darkened shapes, alcoves in the stone. As they got closer, the shapes got clearer and revealed themselves to be pillars, buildings, and stairs carved out of the side of the cliff, spires that sprouted from the top of the alcove to stretch downward like tiered upside-down towers.

The yellow glow of lanterns illuminated the area around them, which allowed her to see several women milling about, as well as the larger forms of fluffy white flying bison zipping throughout the carved temple and the air around it.

“It’s amazing,” she breathed, “it must’ve taken them so long to build.”

“It did indeed,” Zenyatta replied, “it was built during a more turbulent time, a war centuries ago. Here, it remains hidden from those passing by, but the winds of the canyon allow the airflow to be even stronger than if it were built on a mountaintop like the other three air temples.”

“How clever,” Angela mused unenthusiastically, remembering her fears from before.

As they got closer, she could feel a breeze picking up, rustling her ponytail wildly. Out of instinct, she grabbed the side of the saddle tightly before reaching back to grab onto Genji’s tunic. Just as her grip was secure Iris groaned in annoyance when a strong wind pushed her lopsided in the air. Genji yelped when his feet slid out from under him, but Angela’s hold on him kept him from toppling off the saddle long enough for him to stabilize himself.

Zenyatta whipped himself up with his bending to stand in an instant, then twirled around to surround them in a bubble of calm air, keeping it in place as they approached the temple. Just as they landed, he allowed it to dissipate, causing both Angela and Genji to let out a breath of relief.

“You were right,” the waterbender chirped, “all I had to do was hold on to you.”

Genji laughed, his cheeks just a little rosy in response. “Thanks.”

It was only a few seconds before the high-pitched groaning of several young animals accompanied the arrival of miniature bison, all of them crowding around Iris excitedly. One hovered in front of Zenyatta to lick his face eagerly, its tongue still large enough to envelop the nomad’s face in thick saliva. Angela grimaced at the sight, but the monk only chuckled and reached out to pet the young bison’s head to return the greeting.

“They’re…adorable,” Angela tried to say without sounding too disingenuous. Despite her words, she watched the juveniles warily in case one of them tried to greet her in a similar fashion. Genji, on the other hand, stood up in the saddle as one of the smallest came up to him, allowing it to fly around him happily while he watched with glee. White and brown lemurs with large ears and winged arms watched curiously from perches all around them, chittering interestedly, though clearly too nervous to meet them just yet.

The airbending nuns arrived afterward, most of the adults with quadrilateral shapes composed of blue dots tattooed on their foreheads like Zenyatta, mimicking the natural markings of the flying bison. The children, all girls varying in age from as young as two years old to teen-aged, ran ahead to greet him by name. Each nun still in the middle of her training was dressed in a loose yellow-tan suit with an orange capelet and black slippers, while the elders wore long robes and dresses of similar color-schemes, their hairlines shaved back to reveal the symbols of their airbending mastery.

Zenyatta leapt off Iris and landed lightly in front of the coming crowd. He greeted the children with smiles and pats on the head, then placed his palms together to bow toward the elders when they reached him. Almost simultaneously, the younger girls calmed down and remained silent in respect.

“Tekhartha Zenyatta,” the oldest of the nuns greeted him cordially, returning his bow, “we did not expect to see you again for quite some time.”

“How could I stay away from someone so lovely, Tekhartha Naoko?” the monk replied, smiling coyly.

Naoko chuckled soberly, shaking her head. “Is teasing old nuns part of the curriculum in your temple? I swear.” She looked up at the two who’d remained on Iris’s back. “I have not seen your friends before,” she continued, her smile shrinking, “bringing outsiders is…uncommon.”

Zenyatta nodded, bowing again. “Yes…we will only stay a short while, until we can find where Master Ana lives; my waterbending companion is in need of a teacher.”

Angela smiled nervously and waved, hoping they weren’t breaking too many sacred rules with their presence. As guilty as she felt for intruding, she couldn’t help but be glad she got to see such a spectacular sight. To her surprise, Naoko smiled again.

“Then they are welcome here,” she declared, “as long as they mind themselves and stay far from our sanctuary and meditation chambers.”

“You may hold me responsible for their behavior,” Zenyatta assured her, bowing once more. Naoko bowed back and, as if it were a signal to the girls, the cacophony of welcomes resumed.

Angela smirked and elbowed Genji in the side. “Hear that?” she asked, “you’d better not get Zenyatta in trouble, _Princess Genji_.”

The firebender let out an amused “ha” and shrugged. “You won’t find a better behaved lady in the whole Fire Nation.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Angela teased emphatically while climbing off Iris’s back. Genji joined her on the ground, grinning as one of the young nuns approached them. She looked to be around eleven to twelve years old with nut-brown eyes and naturally tan skin. Her dark raw umber hair was mostly down, aside from two pieces in front that hung down on either side of her face and were separated from the rest by carved yellow beads.

“How many waterbending techniques can you do?” she asked eagerly.

Angela folded her arms nervously and shrugged. “Well…I’ve only really learned to heal,” she answered self-consciously, “although, I can use a thin stream of water to fight off attacks. So far, I’ve had to teach myself.”

“My mom says the water whip is one of the hardest ones to learn, unless you have a certain spirit,” the girl replied, her words encouraging, “it’s all about precision control, not like sending big waves and redirecting currents.”

“Your mother must be Master Ana,” Angela guessed, her grin becoming more genuine with the small bit of encouragement, “I heard her daughter was learning airbending.”

“You mean ‘mastering’,” the airbender replied proudly, “check this out.” The girl squatted, then launched herself high into the air in a gust of wind. With occasional bursts downward, she remained airborne, her loose uniform floating lightly for at least a minute before she landed lightly next to Angela and gave her a playful salute. She smiled, putting her hands on her hips. “Not everyone can fly without a glider.”

“Most impressive,” the waterbender praised her with a short laugh, “I could certainly call that ‘mastering’.”

Genji folded his arms, grinning. “We should have a race up the cliff’s side,” he proposed, “you with your airbending, and me with my firebending.”

Angela arched an eyebrow and looked over at him. “Are you serious?”

“What?” the prince asked, shrugging playfully, “I’ll just be helping her train.”

“You think you can keep up with me, scarface?” the girl snorted doubtfully, “you should at least rest first, if you want to have a chance at finishing anywhere _near_ close second.”

“It will take Angela time to train,” Genji went on, his tone equally challenging, “when you’re brave enough, I’ll be waiting.”

“You’re on.”

“Ah, there you are, Fareeha,” Zenyatta greeted the airbender once he’d waded his way out of the crowd of excited girls and they’d gone back to their training, “your mother is well, I hope?”

Fareeha smiled up at the monk, bowing her head in what looked more like habit than an expectation. “She’s alright, but she doesn’t come to the temple very often.” Her countenance dropped and she looked off to the side, at the open canyon beyond the temple. “Actually, I’m not so sure she’d be open to training someone. She’s not very happy with the other waterbenders right now.”

Angela’s brow wrinkled in concern, her hopes starting to fade. “Why not?” she asked, “what could a whole group do that was so wrong?”

“It’s the Northern Tribe, mostly,” Fareeha explained, chewing on her lip a little, “they have a new chieftain and mother doesn’t like her. I think she’s just mad no one’s overthrown her yet.”

“Would telling her I’m from the Southern Tribe make a difference?”

The girl shrugged, smirking. “It might, and showing her what you already know might help too.”

Angela tried to grin hopefully, but her confidence was low, unless the master was interested in healing abilities. In a moment of honesty with herself, she realized the closer she got to finding a teacher the more nervous she got, and it wasn’t just her lack of battle techniques. In fact, it was learning those techniques that scared her.

She may not have had the chance to witness the power of other waterbenders firsthand, but she knew how destructive the element could be on its own. Blizzards, typhoons, avalanches…learning to control those forces wasn’t enticing, knowing fully that she would be expected to use it to hurt people once she had the ability.

“Will you take us to meet her?” Zenyatta asked hopefully, “I assume she is nearby?”

Fareeha pointed upward, nodding. “On the surface above us. She has a hut set up there so people who need healing can find her easily.” She turned and started to walk, gesturing for them to follow. “Just don’t touch any of her stuff when we get there,” she added over her shoulder.

While they followed the girl to a hidden stairway, purportedly the only way to leave or enter the temple without airbending or flying bison, Angela mulled over everything she’d heard about “Master Ana.” She sounded truly fearsome, and possibly fickle if her dislike of one person could separate her from her entire tribe. She wasn’t weak of will herself, but she didn’t know if she’d consider herself brave or daring, not that she’d flinch from helping someone in danger if she could.

Once they’d reached the surface Angela took in a deep breath through her nose, attempting to steel herself before the first meeting. She focused on the energy flowing within her, concentrating on shifting it throughout parts of her body in preparation for a quick demonstration.

Zenyatta had told her what he’d learned of waterbending, much as she’d heard he did for Genji and firebending. He’d said there were pieces of the spirits of the moon and the ocean in each waterbender, appearing as two graceful koi while guiding them toward cyclical balance to achieve true control. Push…and pull, just like the waves being moved by the moon. She tried to keep that in mind as they approached the hut.

Fareeha knocked twice in warning before opening the door herself. “Mother?” she called, “you have visitors.”

“Let them in,” the woman inside called as if she’d been expecting to be disturbed. The girl moved aside and gestured for them to enter before taking her leave, claiming she was late for her next lesson.

Angela decided to enter first, determined not to seem afraid despite her true feelings of trepidation. The dwelling was small, probably only two rooms, and its furnishings humble and plain, not seeming to be of the quality found in a carpenter’s shop. With no other settlement nearby, it seemed likely Master Ana or the nuns had made them by hand. Despite the humble appearance of everything else in the room, there was a collection of scrolls on a single shelf, each one marked with the official Water Tribe insignia, evidence of their importance.

The woman herself was dark of skin and hair, just like her daughter, and appeared to be in her late thirties, though she still possessed a youthful loveliness in her facial features. Angela noted she was dressed more like a Water Tribe man than a woman, with dark blue pants and leather boots, though she had a long coat with feminine accents hanging off a hook by the door. She looked up when they entered and took a moment to observe each of them in turn, her eyebrow raised quizzically.

“Water, fire, and air,” she hummed thoughtfully, “you’re just missing earth, aren’t you? It’s very rare to find such an assortment of young people traveling together these days.”

Angela stayed silent in shock for a while, wondering how she’d so easily picked them out, though Zenyatta’s tattoos tended to give him away when he removed his hat. Since leaving Omashu, they’d all changed into outfits that should have made them seem to be nothing more than Earth Kingdom peasants, for safety alone. She’d always been able to sense when someone was a firebender, but only in the process of healing them. Master Ana must’ve been more skilled than she could imagine to sense the slight difference from so far away.

After a moment to process it, she gathered her courage again. “Master Ana,” she began, bowing respectfully at the waist, “I am Angela of the Southern Water Tribe, come to learn waterbending from a true master.”

Ana chuckled good-naturedly, but shook her head in what seemed like pity. “Then you’re looking in the wrong place,” she replied, “a master has nothing left to learn, and I’m always open to learning.”

Angela risked a smile. “I-I see…then I have come to learn from a more advanced student than myself.”

The “master” smirked and arched both eyebrows at her in interest. “Are you afraid of me, dear?” she asked, “has Fareeha been telling you stories about me? That I’m strict and expect much from my students?”

“Not necessarily…but, honestly, I have never met a ma—I mean…a skilled waterbender before, at least aside from my mother but…”

“Relax,” Ana interrupted her, chuckling again, “I can see you mean well, and I’ve heard the Southern Tribe lost most of its benders in the last two wars. It would be irresponsible of me not to help you rebuild.”

“Oh,” Angela replied, finally smiling in earnest, “I’m sorry; you’re daughter mentioned you weren’t happy with waterbenders of late.”

Ana sighed, leaning against the table behind her. “She was very young when we left the Northern Tribe,” she explained, “and, I guess, it’s led to some misunderstanding, not that I want to distract her with matters of the past.”

Genji took a step forward, drawing her attention to him. “She said the tribe had a new chieftain, and we were turned away at the gate because the chieftain said no one could enter,” he recalled interestedly, “what, exactly, is wrong with her?”

Ana sighed again, this time in clear exasperation. “It would be easier to say what _isn’t_ wrong with her,” she muttered, “I don’t suppose any of you have heard of bloodbending?” Zenyatta, Angela, and Genji each exchanged looks before shaking their heads in response.

“It sounds ghastly,” Angela stated with a disgusted grimace.

“What is it?” Genji asked cautiously, clearly unsure if he wanted to know the answer.

“That’s not really your concern right now, is it? You want to know if I can teach your friend.”

The prince nodded reluctantly, folding his arms. “I was just wondering…” he murmured under his breath.

“ _Can_ you teach me?” Angela asked anxiously.

Ana shrugged with a warm, yet seemingly cocky smile on her face and walked to the far side of the room where she pulled the cover off a large urn, revealing it was full of clear liquid. “That depends on you,” she replied, “on what you know, and your work ethic. Show me.”

Recalling what Fareeha had said about the water whip, Angela decided displaying the little talent she had with that technique was her best bet. She placed her feet shoulder-width apart and bent her knees just slightly while holding her arms with her fingers directed toward the urn.

She sensed the water within it, more than she was accustomed to dealing with, but she knew it would probably be better to try moving it all than play it safe and risk disappointing the master. Of course, the possibility of failure was daunting, especially with skilled benders like Genji and Zenyatta watching her. She knew they probably wouldn’t judge her too harshly, but…she couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t judge herself. She wanted them to know she was capable, that she was a meaningful member of their group…that she was worth the time they’d put into helping her.

Moving her hands in a circular motion, smooth and graceful like the ripples of a pool being caressed by the gentlest of breezes, she coaxed the liquid into a stream as she pulled it slowly from the urn, careful not to lose control and splash it all over the floor. As she worked her way toward the water at the bottom of the urn, she realized there was something else within it, submerged…and it was moving.

Both curious and wondering if she was capable, she encapsulated it in an orb of water and drew the orb up the length of the stream she’d formed until it’d emerged from the urn’s opening. In her hovering globe of water swam a large brown frog that seemed barely fazed by the fact it was practically flying. Angela managed to laugh while maintaining her concentration and carefully lowered the liquid orb until the frog could jump out and onto the floor. Croaking, the frog regarded her shortly before leaping toward the door.

Zenyatta hummed amusedly and stepped aside to let it squeeze outside while Angela sent the water back to the urn, relaxing her arms with a tired huff once it was inside. Ana folded her arms while nodding slowly, seeming to be pleased by what she saw.

“You have excellent form and control,” she observed aloud, “that’s usually something I need to hammer into young benders.” She reached down to cover the urn again, then walked back to the table to lean against it like she’d been before. “But I must say your confidence needs work. You seem to be battling yourself, rather than embracing water’s natural harmony.”

Angela nodded obediently, but was surprised the master could see her conflict so easily through her bending. She knew she had the determination to do what was necessary for the future of her tribe, but she hoped it wouldn’t need to go further than that.

“I can train you,” Ana continued, “after you get some rest. I will see you _early_ tomorrow morning, but come alone; my lessons aren’t for spectators.” The waterbender’s eyes seemed to narrow before she looked over at Genji to smile knowingly. “The fewer distractions, the better.”

Angela saw Genji shift in the periphery of her vision and cleared her throat, hoping she wasn’t too obvious in admiring the prince. He was, after all, a prince, and…how embarrassing that would be! She was certainly not one of the many girls who fantasized about being chosen by a charming, kind prince out of the crowd and elevated to a life of luxury, to a happily ever after. She told herself she was worrying for nothing, that Genji knew that much about her, but she couldn’t help feeling a little flustered at the thought that the clearly perceptive Ana might expose how she felt about him.

Angela bowed respectfully to express her gratitude at being accepted as her student, eager to leave before anything _else_ might happen. “Thank you! I won’t let you down.”

Ana chuckled, shaking her head. “Of that, I’m sure.” She made a gentle shooing motion with her hand while starting to turn away. “Run along, now.”

 

The next day Angela arrived bright and early to find Ana had prepared a variety of tests for her, to find out what she needed to learn. Regardless of having decided she should take part in them, Ana seemed to know before each one whether she would succeed or not, judging solely by her past performance. It was clear she’d trained many students, to the point where identifying a waterbender’s strengths and weaknesses was as simple as reading text on a parchment for her.

It was well past midday by the time Angela had completed each of Ana’s tests, and though she tried to hide it, she’d spent nearly all of the energy a good night’s sleep had given her. She was relieved when Ana finally motioned her to take a seat in the grass. The girl complied, crossing her legs while sitting upright to avoid showing any disrespect. To her surprise, Ana practically lounged in the grass when she joined her on the ground, placing one hand behind her to lean casually against it.

“As I’ve stated, you’re very in control of your stances,” she mused, “given a few techniques to practice, I’m sure you’d have the forms mastered in no time. But you hesitate. Hesitation is akin to resigning to die in the heat of battle, my dear.”

Angela lowered her head, glancing off to the side a little. She should’ve known this discussion would come up. Genji clearly thought her unquestionable regard for life and safety was out of place in a world full of chaos and death, but she was resolved never to become an agent of those things, the forces that’d robbed her of her mother and dear uncle. Would Ana understand that where Genji couldn’t?

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, “it’s very important to me to learn waterbending styles, but…learning to hurt people is out of the question. I’ve been healing injuries for as long as I can remember, and I don’t ever want to be the one causing such suffering.”

Ana snorted out a laugh, shaking her head. “I’m not here to teach you how to destroy your enemies,” she assured her amusedly, “that sounds more like something your firebender friend might’ve said. Boys can be like that, sometimes, especially ones raised in an environment like the Fire Nation. Hopefully he will wise up before he does anything _irredeemable_.” Her smile dropped and she cocked her head, staring suspiciously. “He hasn’t been pressuring you to kill, has he?”

“No,” Angela admitted with a sigh, “he’s always been ready to do that sort of thing for himself, but…”

“But you don’t want to feel like dead weight to your friends, like something that needs to be protected and can be a liability during a fight.”

“How did you know?”

Ana chuckled, shrugging while she looked down to watch her free hand pluck at the grass beside her. “I was a young girl once, and I’ve been in my fair share of fights while wondering what my place in them should be,” she explained, “behind airbenders, waterbenders are some of the most easily underestimated in this world. But there’s one very important thing I learned as a girl that you don’t know.”

Angela leaned forward interestedly. “What thing is that?”

“No decision should be easy,” the master concluded, her posture changing from relaxed to severe as she sat up erect, “when your course of action is obvious, your mind is closed, and that can be more dangerous than any knife or arrow. Attacks can be dodged, but a closed mind is nearly impossible to remedy. A solution to any problem has the potential to cause so many more problems, even ones you could never foresee and the failure to understand that is what leads to every conflict humankind has and will ever face.”

Perplexed, Angela couldn’t help but get angry at what she seemed to be telling her to do. “Are you saying we should just ignore problems because we don’t know what will happen if we act?” she demanded.

“No,” Ana retorted bluntly, “we need to have the will to act, even when we know someone could be hurt, and to have the courage to face the consequences. What you thought I was saying angered you, did it? You must realize you’ve unintentionally done the same thing: you want to avoid causing pain to any person, and as a result you’ve become unwilling to do what may be necessary to protect those you care for.”

Her anger building, Angela scoffed. “There are other ways, ways that don’t involve violence. Why should I be ready to kill when I know every person has someone who loves them? When every person is, essentially, like me?”

“Because not every person _is_ like you,” Ana replied harshly, “each man or woman was raised differently, with different values and beliefs. Some people may not even see you as a person, but as a target. A _thing_ they can use for their own gain. Some people see every other person as an object, a prop in the play that is their life. There is wisdom in knowing when you _must_ act, even if it isn’t easy.”

“I’m _not_ a murderer!”

“I’m not asking you to kill, girl.” The master took in a deep breath and let it out before elaborating, her tone much gentler: “I simply need to know that the things I teach you will not be wasted. When you return to your tribe, will you have the will to defend it? When your friends are in danger, will you use my techniques to save them from harm? It’s impossible to be sure everyone will leave a situation happy, but when you surround yourself with loved ones, they rely on you as much as you rely on them. Only when you’re willing to do everything that’s necessary to protect them will you stop being a liability.”

Angela tried to force herself to calm down, but couldn’t believe what Ana was saying could actually be _wise_. “If everyone believed that, there would be rampant violence in the streets,” she hissed.

“The world is not black and white,” Ana replied confidently, regardless of her new student’s obvious displeasure, “and violence is not the only way to protect people from harm. You’re clearly a natural prodigy in the art of water healing, and I’m sure you’ve used that many times to help the people around you. All I’m asking is that you assure me you will have the presence of mind to know when that isn’t enough. When your two friends, the airbender and firebender, are down on the field and a man is standing over them ready to finish the job, will you stop him?”

“Of course!”

“With more than threatening words?”

Angela sighed, nodding her consent. It’d taken a while, but she could see Ana’s harsh words came from lessons hard-learned, tragedies she wanted to spare her from. She hadn’t stopped to give her own stance serious thought for a long time, but the master’s words had helped her see she’d been naïve, that she’d closed her mind. Violence was undoubtedly a horrible goal to pursue…but there would come times it was the only way, and preparing for those times was just part of life. She realized on some level she’d always known that and, perhaps, she’d been trying live in a fantasy.

“I don’t need to seek out violence, but sometimes I must use it,” she murmured, “I understand.”

At last, Ana’s smile returned and she nodded back at her. “Good. The wisdom to know when the time comes must be earned with experience, I’m afraid…and you will make mistakes, as everyone does. You will learn from them, and the next time will be that much more obvious to you.” The woman sighed contentedly and stood up again, prompting Angela to do the same. “Waterbending is a reflection of the balance everything in this world _must_ achieve. Peace can’t exist without war, light can’t exist without dark, and push can’t exist without pull. Now, we can begin.”


	14. Chapter Fourteen

            Akande regarded the Fire Throne with folded arms and an unimpressed look across his face. The wall of fire that used to occupy the back of the room had been extinguished upon his order, and he couldn’t wait for the day he could order the chamber destroyed entirely. There could never be peace between the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom…at least, not one worth humoring for long. They were the two most powerful, the most determined, and were destined to butt heads for all eternity.

His contacts in his home nation wanted peace, and they thought he could give it to them by ending the threat the Fire Nation posed. Under an Earth Kingdom regent the firebenders could be controlled, they thought. Akande doubted peace would come once his plan was fully enacted, but at least any future battles would be easily won. Chaos was part of the world, and with the Avatar gone it was only a matter of time before it engulfed everything. Fighting it was futile…which was why he and his closest allies chose to serve it.

He tore his gaze away from the horrible dais when he heard someone enter, the step light—that of a woman. “Moira,” he assumed before actually catching a glimpse of her. His senses had been right. “Do you come with news?”

The bloodbender stopped beside him with one slender hand on her hip while she held the other out lazily at her side, taking a moment to look at the throne. Even without the wall of fire it was attention-catching. Once she turned her eagle-like gaze on him, he could see the frown on her lips.

“Fire Lord Hanzo was nearly captured by our friends in Omashu,” she stated, her tone bored, “but it seems he has more allies than we assumed. He left the city a day ago in the company of four other men, and at least one of them is a respectable earthbender.”

“Were they able to identify them?”

“They knew one of them, but we only have descriptions of the other three.”

Akande sighed angrily, clenching and unclenching his fist against his chest while imagining he had the troublesome lord’s neck in his grasp. His forces had consolidated in the several weeks since Hanzo’s escape, and soon they wouldn’t need him to keep the order any more…but it would be close. They’d managed to keep the population appeased by claiming he’d taken ill, but it was only a matter of time before they’d become concerned that he hadn’t recovered yet and start asking questions or making demands.

Still, even once they had absolute control of the capital, Hanzo would need to be accounted for and removed as a threat. Ideally, in a permanent sense.

“The one they knew might be an old acquaintance of yours, in fact,” Moira went on, seeming slightly more interested in this topic than she’d been in the last, “a retired Earth Kingdom captain by the name of Gabriel Reyes.”

“Reyes…” Akande hummed thoughtfully, remembering the name easily. He’d had suspicions about him, that he’d helped to stop one of his plans to prevent the Fire Nation from gaining ground during the war, but he’d never had the evidence to prove it and have him executed like he would’ve liked. Annoying as he was, he couldn’t see him throwing in with the Fire Lord without a _very_ good reason for it. “What did they say about the others? Perhaps I’ll know them, too.”

“They had some intriguing details to report,” Moira replied, smiling a little while she tapped her chin with a long, claw-like nail, “apparently, one of them was, and I quote, ‘larger than any man has the right to be’. He sounds like quite the specimen; I wouldn’t mind getting my hands on someone that noteworthy. For research, of course.”

“I’ll send word to our friends; we’ll see if they can capture him, too.”

“I appreciate your efforts,” the bloodbender hummed pleasantly, giving him a gracious half bow, “you should also know one of the remaining two companions sounded familiar to me, though I have trouble believing my own ears. Are you certain you killed the Fire Lord’s guard commander?”

“With my own hands,” Akande assured her, his brow furrowing in displeasure. He knew she wouldn’t have mentioned him if she wasn’t nearly certain he was traveling with their quarry, and she wasn’t one easily convinced of the seemingly impossible.

If Morrison had somehow survived, he was an even greater thorn in his side than he could’ve imagined a non bender to be. “And yet…there may be a small chance someone managed to save him while the body was being disposed of…if that’s the case, we will need to question the servants.” He restrained himself from trying to vent his anger by punching anything nearby; it was nearly all stone, and not worth the cut knuckles. “Following the trend of growing impossibilities, should I expect the fourth to be the Avatar himself?”

“Hardly.” Moira let out a haughty chuckle, shaking her head. “The fourth is a peasant boy around the Fire Lord’s age. I have no clue why they would bring him along.”

“Perhaps he is the earthbender.”

“In that case, he might not be as big a threat as I thought.”

Akande grimaced and looked down at his hand, where there were still burn scars from his fight with Hanzo before Moira had stepped in to end it in his favor. He’d been close to death, though he was certain he would’ve thought of something if the bloodbender hadn’t arrived when she did…but it wasn’t a good risk to take again.

“Where bending is concerned, age is almost meaningless,” he stated, “this boy may not be the Fire Lord, but I will not remake the mistake of underestimating a bender based solely on how many years he’s lived.”

“I see,” Moira hummed, shrugging her shoulders gently, “then, on that subject, should we be expecting his brother any time soon? We’ve had his accommodations ready for quite a while now.”

Akande turned to head toward the throne room’s exit, gesturing for the bloodbender to join him. “The hunter has sent word that he’s gone to the Western Air Temple, which limits her options. She has assured me she will strike at her first opportunity.”

In the yard outside he could see the people he’d begun to station throughout the palace, people from his homeland and Moira’s alike. The newest arrivals, a group of rugged-looking sellswords from the mainland saluted him upon his approach. Unwilling to interrupt his conference with the bloodbender just yet, he gestured for them to report to one of his nearby earthbenders. Fire Nation guards and firebenders he’d managed to buy were positioned on the outermost parts of the castle, places the people could see them so they at least might think twice if they suspected something was wrong. It was the people of the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribe he trusted to guard the interior, and to lie in wait for their chance to take the rest of the island.

“The Western Air Temple is not far from my city,” Moira reminded him as they walked away, giving themselves some privacy from the rank and file, “I could easily dispatch my soldiers to take it, and to kill the wayward prince and his traveling companions.”

“The prince is not my highest priority,” Akande stated, waving the matter off with a gesture, “and attacking an Air Temple might bring the airbenders upon us, as well as alert the Earth King to our activities. Those are problems we don’t need right now. We can trust Lacroix to keep a close eye on him, for now.”

Moira chuckled quietly. “How is it we could siphon so many from the Earth Kingdom’s forces without its ruler being aware of our activities?” she asked, “or, perhaps, the question should be how such an idiotic man could maintain such a grand kingdom.”

“The Earth King is a fool; there is no question of that, but his son shows promise. However, there is only so much the crown prince will be able to hide from him.”

“So be it,” Moira hummed, shrugging to express her resignation to Akande’s plan, “in the meantime I shall begin _questioning_ the servants. One of them will tell me what really happened to Commander Morrison.”

\---

            Hanzo took advantage of the dying light to split the best feathers he’d picked up while they walked northward. Using the dagger Reyes was gracious enough to provide him he carefully cut down the center of the quill and shaped the feathers until they were the right size to serve as fletching.

            The others had retired to get some much needed rest, all except McCree who had volunteered for first watch. Even then, he could catch him glancing at him every so often. He told himself it was because he was making sure he was alright, to be sure the commander wouldn’t throttle him for being lax. However…McCree had always been especially attentive. He caught him whenever a loose rock in the road caused him to stumble, offered to help him climb when they wanted to take shortcuts. Hanzo hardly needed help climbing, but…he was guilty of accepting the offer once in a moment of weakness.

Ever since the attack in Omashu both Morrison and Reinhardt had become more watchful, more cautious...and more ever-present. As much as he appreciated their efforts to prevent a similar attack, he was glad for the moments of solitude that came every night when the rest of the group slept. This night seemed as though it would be different; McCree had been strangely quiet, keeping to himself all day. He seemed…preoccupied, and was looking at him a little more often than usual. It seemed something had changed.

“Y’know, it ain’t good fer you to stay up so late every night.”

Hanzo glanced up only momentarily to acknowledge McCree’s statement, then went back to his task. “I will sleep when my work is done,” he murmured.

McCree grunted, twisting his empty pipe in his mouth while he sat against a boulder with his arm over his chest. “What’re you up to, anyway?” he muttered.

“Fletching.”

“Well, I can see that much, but…wouldn’t it be easier t’do in the day?”

Hanzo collected the fletching he’d made thus far in his hand and leaned back on his heels to look over at the earthbender, wondering why he was suddenly himself again. “I plan to hunt tonight,” he explained, “fresh meat will do all of us some good.”

McCree grunted again, cocking an eyebrow. “In the dark?”

“Animals present themselves more freely at night, and are not expecting the hunter’s arrow. My eyes will adjust to the light.”

McCree sat up and rubbed his lower back, grimacing in obvious discomfort. Hanzo could easily share that feeling, though he kept it to himself as often as possible, to avoid drawing more attention from his companions. Perhaps it was his royal blood, or the loss of his bending, but it seemed to him they thought he was less capable than any other traveler.

“So,” the earthbender began again after readjusting his seat, “you been huntin’ before? Never woulda though the fire lord would need to catch his own food.”

Hanzo smiled, letting out a short chuckle through his nose. “In the palace we hunted for sport…my brother and I.” His smiled dropped a little when thoughts of Genji threatened to creep up on him. Stubbornly, he pushed them away, refusing to dwell on the unchangeable past. “We would, of course, eat what we caught, though not out of necessity,” he concluded, looking down to sort the feathers.

“Think you’ll need any help?”

At last, Hanzo couldn’t take it anymore. He huffed indignantly and got to his feet to stare down at him angrily. “I am not lame or blind!” he declared, as loud as he could whisper to avoid waking everyone, “I may have been raised in a palace, but we trained daily! I worked to become strong and capable of defending my kingdom! I will not stand for—“

“Woah, there,” McCree interrupted him, getting to his feet as well, “I’m completely sure yer capable of bringin’ back a whole damn feast with that shootin’ arm o’ yers. I saw that much back in town; you put on quite a show o’ skill.”

Hanzo’s fists relaxed at his sides and he leaned back again. “Ah…I see,” he replied, trying not to take it too much as a compliment, though that was difficult.

“All I’m tryna do is save you some time,” the earthbender went on to explain. He shrugged, grinning while he hooked his thumb under his belt. “I mean, if you got someone with you who can feel the critters movin’ in the dark we’ll getchyer kill back in time to get an hour or two o’ sleep before we set out again.”

The fire lord sighed in resignation, nodding to himself. “Very well, then,” he relented, “however, you will need to stay your tongue until we’ve taken our prey…and walk quietly. Your footsteps are quite heavy.”

“I hear ya, pumpkin,” McCree chirped, clearly pleased to have his offer accepted. Hanzo frowned excessively and returned his attention to his arrows. Including the ones he already had in his stolen quiver, he judged two more would be more than sufficient for a single hunting trip and got back to work.

Hanzo and McCree waited in silence for an extensive period of time, one the fire lord neglected to measure by the moon’s movement through the sky. As anxious as Hanzo was about having someone along for the ride, he had to be impressed by the earthbender’s capacity to stay silent when necessary, a skill he didn’t expect him to have. At last, McCree got his attention by a gentle touch on the shoulder. When he looked over, his hunting partner used slow hand movements to suggest the direction of their quarry and they started after it.

Using the sparse light the moon provided Hanzo peered through the night until he saw signs of movement: a sizeable four-legged creature walking through the forest ahead of them. The creature turned its head toward them, allowing them to see its long antlers that reached skyward. The hunting pair halted instantly in response and sat still once again, completely silent for minutes on end…until at last the creature continued to walk. It moved slow, lazily, and Hanzo knew it wasn’t nocturnal; it was searching for a place to lay its head for the night. Feeling almost guilty about it, he drew his bow.

The earthbender and the fire lord worked together to carry the young fox antelope to the stream near their camp, where they would be able to clean it. Hanzo made a note to save the antlers; they would be easy to cut and sharpen for use as arrowheads. McCree got to work without needing his direction, proving it wasn’t his first time on a hunt. The fire lord tried not to be impressed and avoided watching him as he recovered his arrow and cleaned it in the water. The man’s hands worked deftly, with an agility the rest of his body didn’t seem to possess. They were strong hands…skilled hands. After realizing he’d been watching him like he’d planned not to, he turned away.

“Hey, Han?”

Feeling as if he’d been caught naked, Hanzo slowly looked back at him. “What is it?”

McCree looked up at him to smile quickly, then went back to work. “You don’t much care fer me, do you?” he muttered.

Hanzo let a sigh out through his nostrils and went to help him, again intending to keep his eyes off of him. “It is not…as you say,” he murmured, “I must be vigilant.”

The earthbender snorted a laugh. “What’s that gotta do with me?” he asked, “you know I won’t try to hurtchya, right?”

Hanzo grunted uncomfortably, wishing he could disappear. He knew he would need to put some sort of distance between them. “You…are an attractive man who uses his natural charisma to charm others into liking him…into doing things for him, I’m sure.” He looked up to narrow his eyes at him. “A _scoundrel_.”

McCree didn’t return his look, focusing instead on their kill. “Scoundrel, huh?” he hummed, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Hanzo scoffed. “It was not meant as one.”

“All the same.”

His answer hadn’t worked as he wanted it to, clearly. Frowning again, his eyebrows arched in annoyance. “You are infuriating!” he hissed.

At last, McCree returned his gaze, his lips twisting in a crooked smile. “Why’s it so important to you?” he demanded, “you tryna drive me away’r somethin’?”

Clenching his teeth, the fire lord slammed his knife into the dirt beside him. He knew! How could he have known? Why wouldn’t he just let it be? “You are doing it even now!” he exclaimed.

“Doing _what_?”

Almost gritting his teeth, Hanzo twisted the knife in the grass. His insults seemed to slide off of him like water off a duck’s back. How was it so simultaneously irritating and appealing!? “T-tempting!” he stammered in response, hating how unsure he sounded, “you are doing this on purpose, do not deny it.”

“I’m tempting you, huh?” McCree drawled, a grin stretching over his mouth. It almost looked…like pity!

“Do not smile at me so,” Hanzo growled at him, standing up in a huff to turn away from him.

He heard McCree sigh behind him, then a shuffle of grass as he came closer. No! “Yer pulled tighter’n that bowstring o’ yers,” he murmured, “it ain’t healthy to be so wound up.”

“I--!” Hanzo stopped himself from shouting at him, letting out a long sigh to try and calm himself before he continued, “I cannot be alone with you.”

“Cuz I’m infuriatin’?” He heard him chuckle. “Sorry, darlin’, that’s just how I am.”

“Yes,” the fire lord hissed through his teeth, pausing to take another breath and relax his voice, “yes, I know. This is not your fault; I am allowing myself to be frustrated by your presence and for that I apologize.”

“Now I can’t help but be curious,” McCree murmured, his voice sounding from just behind him. Hanzo turned to face him, his arms folded stubbornly. “Why am I so frustratin’ to you?”

Looking up at him, at his kind eyes that…showed the slightest sign of hurt from his words, he felt his heart aching. That sign was so slight, hidden behind his constant mask of confidence. He felt the need to be honest with him, though he knew it would be an error. He suppressed the part of him that told him the safest course would be to punch him right in the face.

“Because…I cannot give you the manner of attention I would like to,” he admitted reluctantly, his heart aching anew. It felt as if a dam had cracked, releasing little bits of emotions he’d been suppressing for so long. “You are a problem I cannot solve,” he continued, “and there is no reason a man as ridiculous as you should be so distracting.”

“I could say the same thing ‘bout a guy with yer manners,” McCree grunted back, planting his hands on his hips.

“Then release me!” Hanzo hissed, stepping backward.

“You want me to leave? Well, tough, cuz I ain’t goin’ anywhere,” the earthbender insisted, stepping forward, “me n’ my pa got a job to do and we’re gonna do it. We’re gonna get yer palace back.” Hanzo struggled with what he could possibly say next in the pause that followed. Before he could make up his mind, he saw McCree’s expression soften, his hands leaving his hips. “This…got somethin’ to do with yer not bein’ able to get cozy with another man?” he asked gently.

Unwilling to let him guess his thoughts so quickly, despite everything he might’ve let slip already, Hanzo folded his arms. “I beg your pardon?”

“You said back home that royalty ain’t allowed to get into that,” McCree murmured, “seein’ as I’m not the one who mentioned the royal family, it kinda sounded…like you were talkin’ ‘bout yerself.”

That explained the looks he’d gotten from him and Reinhardt, then. Hanzo kept his lips pressed firmly together while considering his options. He could easily deny everything and walk away, never mention any of it again, but…it wouldn’t stop the emotions he’d accidentally released in his moment of honesty. It wouldn’t make the tension go away. It wouldn’t stop McCree from offering to help him, and it wouldn’t stop him from wanting McCree to offer. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted anymore.

“The matter came up once,” he whispered, honesty winning the internal tug-of-war match once again, “I was younger, and not as smart as I am now. It was a mistake.”

McCree nodded slowly, and Hanzo couldn’t avoid noticing him move a little closer. He didn’t stop him. “What happened?” he asked quietly, kindly, as if he actually wanted to know. Hanzo didn’t know why that was surprising to him.

“I had a dear friend…one of the servants, when I was fifteen,” he began, surprised again that he was going to tell him everything. It was too late to stop. “I told myself that we were simply close, that it was companionship we both craved and could find with no one else, but I was lying to myself.” Feeling embarrassed by the memory of his stupidity, Hanzo had to avoid looking at McCree as he went on, “We made the mistake of kissing, and it was witnessed by an elder on my father’s council. When he found out, my father banished my companion, as well as the elder who’d seen what I did. To this day they will be arrested if they return to Fire Nation territory.”

McCree didn’t say anything for a while, then, “that’s…”

Before he could finish the thought, Hanzo collected himself and glared up at him. “It was right,” he declared, “as fire lord it is my duty to ensure the future of my nation. I must marry and father a child who will take my place when the time comes, and I cannot afford to be distracted by anyone who is incapable of helping me fulfill that duty.” He scoffed, looking away again. “My father was right to teach me that lesson then and there, before more foolish ideas could enter my mind and heart.”

McCree sighed, scratching the back of his head. “I wasn’t gonna say it was _wrong_ ,” he retorted, “I mean, I ain’t in the position to question kings n’ all, but…it still sounds heartless to me. No wonder you’re wound so tight, havin’ a guy like that teach ya how to be a man.”

“He taught me how to be fire lord. Being ‘a man’ must come second to that.” Hanzo let a breath out through his nose, closing his eyes to recollect himself. Somehow, it felt good to admit the things he’d never told anyone out loud…the things he hadn’t even told his own brother. Mistake or not, he could feel the tension leaving his shoulders. “As I said, he did the right thing,” he concluded.

“Well, where I come from, I’m known fer doin’ the wrong thing.”

Hanzo’s eyes flew open when something soft, and only a little chapped, collided with his lips. McCree’s hand came up to hold his chin gently while he kissed him and, despite himself, Hanzo let it…at least, for a second or two before he forced himself to pull away indignantly.

“Why?” he demanded, “why did you do that!?”

McCree smiled down at him and Hanzo realized he was still holding his chin. “Honestly?” the earthbender began, “because yer damn near the prettiest creature I ever seen.”

His heart racing, the fire lord pulled his chin free and glared back at him. “I’ve already told you how things must be,” he growled, “why would you choose to make this worse?”

McCree groaned, his frustration apparent. “I know, I know,” he whined, “I just had to try it once, to see if…well, if…”

“If?”

Sighing, the earthbender shrugged. “If I could help.”

Hanzo’s breast swelled in indignation, his back erect. “Insolent cur,” he spat, just before grabbing hold of McCree’s--Jesse’s tunic and pulling him against himself to smash their lips together.

The cracked dam in him broke fully and he found he wanted nothing more than to have Jesse pressed up against him, a desire the other man fulfilled by wrapping his arms tightly around his waist. Hanzo slid his hands up his chest, over his collarbones and behind his neck to reach his fingers into his shaggy hair. So unrefined, so…unwashed! And yet, somehow, so perfect. He entangled them there, savoring his warmth while he tapped into an adventurous part of him he hadn’t felt since he was fifteen, pushing his tongue past Jesse’s teeth to taste him eagerly. He knew he was officially past the line, so far past it he couldn’t see how he could ever get back to it. He was a terrible fire lord.

He could feel Jesse’s hand slide around his waist, to the front of his belt…he felt him working on it when a rustle in the bushes nearby snapped him back into himself and he pushed away from Jesse who, thankfully, had the same reaction. They both looked over as Commander Morrison emerged into the clearing, squinting in the moonlight to see them.

“Is everything alright, Commander?” Hanzo asked, trying to ignore the heat that still sat pooled in his stomach and convey an even, unshaken tone.

“It is now,” Morrison replied, letting out a silent sigh of relief, “when I woke for my watch I wasn’t expecting you to be gone, my lord. I have to admit, I was worried.”

“Your diligence is noted,” Hanzo replied, hiding his annoyance at being interrupted as best he could, “I will return shortly, after we’ve finished here.”

The commander looked toward the stream, then grinned. “Fresh venison, huh? Impressive.” He bowed his head. “I would suggest you finish quickly; you both’ll need rest before daybreak.” With that, he disappeared back into the night wood, leaving Jesse and Hanzo alone once again.

Steeling himself, Hanzo turned to face him again. “It would be a mistake to pursue this any further,” he stated, firmly despite his reluctance, “I cannot make that mistake again.”

“No one’s ‘round to banish me but you,” Jesse pointed out in a whisper, reaching up to cup his cheek.

“All the same,” the fire lord replied, stepping back and out of his reach, “I cannot.” Unsure if he could stop himself from grasping the man to embrace him again, Hanzo forced himself to turn away and head back toward their kill by the stream. He and Jesse…McCree…worked in silence until the deed was done, then carried the fox antelope back to camp as if nothing had happened.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Jesse walked in silence beside his adoptive father as they approached the end of the woods, and the Great Divide beyond it. Ahead of them walked Reinhardt and Hanzo, with Jack taking up the front on the narrow path that carved through the trees. As much as he would’ve liked to go back to how things were before he’d accidentally convinced the fire lord to admit their feelings were mutual, only to be told they couldn’t do anything about it, he simply couldn’t think of anything to say to sound like his old self.

He knew his father had taken notice, had been looking over at him from time to time, but hadn’t said anything. He didn’t know if he would have anything to say if he asked, anyway. He focused on the road, and soon noticed his father had been gradually slowing down, and had made him fall behind with him without realizing it. He looked up at him curiously.

“Took you long enough to figure it out,” Gabe murmured under his breath, “you had to open your mouth, didn’t you?”

Jesse rolled his eyes with a grumble. “What did I do this time?”

“You tell me,” Gabe grumbled back, looking over at him, “did you or did you not say something to him?”

“To who?”

“Don’t play dumb like you do with everyone else; I know you better than that.”

Jesse sighed, folding his arms over his chest while he walked. “Well…he started it,” he mumbled dejectedly, “started gripin’ about me bein’ around, sayin’ I was…distractin’. Don’t take a genius t’figure that one out.”

Gabe grunted his acknowledgment “Let me guess: you made your move and he said it wasn’t happening, right?”

“Damnit, Pa, why’re ya tryin’ t’make me feel worse?” Jesse waited for the scolding he knew would come, but it didn’t, thankfully. “I knew this was gonna happen the second I saw him,” he admitted quietly, “the way he walked just shouted ‘way outta yer league’…shoulda listened to myself, but here we are.” He gasped audibly when he felt Gabe’s heavy hand plop itself on his shoulder and give it a reaffirming squeeze.

“Sorry, kid,” he grunted, “sometimes life just isn’t fair.”

As surprising as it was to get tenderness from the man, Jesse couldn’t be comforted by his words. Why did life have to be unfair in a way he couldn’t fight it? He’d been able to fight everything else…why was this any different?

“That ain’t good enough,” he growled, pushing Gabe’s hand off his shoulder, “there’s gotta be a way I can fix this. I mean, if it can work out fer two soldiers on opposite sides of a goddamn war then why can’t it work out fer us?”

Gabe grunted a quiet laugh. “It didn’t work out for us,” he murmured, “you know that.”

Jesse looked over at him again, trying not to look too hopelessly desperate with unknown success. “But it did,” he argued, “Jack’s back, n’ you two’re talkin’ friendly and lookin’ at each other like…like you used to. I ain’t seen you this happy since I was small.”

“Nothing’s changed,” Gabe retorted, just before smiling a little and glancing in the direction of the others, “well, aside from an attitude shift on my part. When this is all over we both have our lives to go back to. Jack’ll stay in the palace, we’ll go back home to Omashu.”

Jesse almost spat out his pipe. “Why!?” he blurted. Gabe put a finger to his lips, and the earthbender glanced forward to see Reinhardt and Hanzo look back at them. Gabe shook his head to assure them they were alright and they were left with their privacy intact. “Sorry,” Jesse whispered, shaking his head, “I just can’t believe—I mean, why wouldn’t we stay? It’s not like we got anythin’ important to go back to, and you can do yer job anywhere. Not sayin’ ya gotta make weapons fer the Fire Nation, seein’ as that’d be…difficult fer ya, but metalcraftin’ is in demand everywhere I can think of.”

“You don’t want to live in the Fire Nation capital, or anywhere else in the archipelago for that matter,” Gabe replied calmly despite the incredulous tone his son’s voice had taken on, “he’s the _fire lord_. His image and name’ll be everywhere, just to remind you what you can’t have. You’d be miserable; it’s best for both of us to stay where we belong, and best for them.”

“There’s gotta be some way.”

“There isn’t, kid. You have to accept that. As for Jack and I…we’re just making the most of the time we have.”

Jesse looked up to see the back of Hanzo’s head. The best of the time they have? It didn’t seem to be an option with him…but there was a little sliver of hope in it. They didn’t have to be together the same way Gabe and Jack were, but there was still a way to repair the damage that’d been done, to salvage a friendship. It wasn’t ideal, but he couldn’t bear to continue on such shaky terms until the day Hanzo finally walked out of his life forever.

Having timed it splendidly, Gabe managed to end their talk before the forest opened up in to the short plain that went on for a few dozen feet until dropping off into the largest canyon in the world. It was a dangerous course to take, but the fastest way to reach the northern part of the continent on foot. Although…it seemed to be more dangerous than usual.

Before them stood at least twenty armored ostrich horses, each with a rider decked out in Earth Kingdom military garb in a saddle on its back, blocking their route to the guide’s hut. While many of them carried spears and bows, three were unarmed, with their feet bare like Jesse’s—earthbenders. The foremost of the group, a man with small gold accents on his pauldrons and his mount’s helmet, directed the ostrich horse he rode two steps forward. He appeared to be one of the earthbenders.

“Identify yourselves and state your reasons for crossing the Divide,” he barked.

Jesse avoided grimacing openly while looking over the faces of the riders. While most of them kept their expressions professionally stony, he could see one here or there examining members of their group from afar. His trained eye knew they were trying to figure out if they recognized them, no doubt based on rough descriptions, which meant they’d been identified leaving either Omashu or one of the villages they’d passed through. He glanced over at Gabe, who shared his look.

“We’re travelers,” Jack stated, stepping forward as well, “we have family in the Fire Nation colony and we heard the borders were finally open to small groups.”

“It’s been a long time since I last saw my son,” Reinhardt contributed, “a lot of us were cut off when the war ended, as you must know!”

“Where have you come from?” the soldier demanded, seeming unfazed by the emotional ploy.

Armed with the knowledge Gabe had provided him during their talks of plans and strategies, Jack didn’t even flinch. “The three of us have been staying with the Gan Jin,” he said easily, gesturing to Reinhardt and Hanzo, then Gabe and Jesse, “our two friends met us on the road from the Zhang village, also displaced by the war. We thought it would be safest to travel together through the canyon.”

“Needless to say we’re glad to leave,” Gabe grumbled, folding his arms.

“Right,” the leader grunted, cocking an eyebrow, “and we just happen to be looking for five travelers who look a lot like the five of you.”

Gabe groaned, rolling his eyes. “Give us a break. We’ve been on the road for days and we still have a long way to go.” He paused to pick at his teeth, mimicking the notorious poor manners of the Zhang tribe. “Ten years is a long time to be away from home.”

One of the soldiers behind the leader got his attention with a wave, then gestured with his head. The leader pointed at Hanzo authoritatively. “What’s your name?” he growled.

Hanzo frowned deeply, but before he could open his mouth to speak Jesse intervened. “He’s a mute, Sir,” he said hastily, worried what sort of insult or indignant comment might pop out of the noble’s mouth, “we think his name is Jian, but his writing is awful.” He tried not to look over at the fire lord’s reaction to that, certain it wasn’t good. Still, Hanzo had yet to accept his invitation for commoner acting lessons.

Before the leader could voice the doubt that was written all over his face, Hanzo stepped forward and held his hands up before quickly making several signals with them, his movements deliberate. Jesse frowned and hoped he hadn’t gotten his bending back just in time to cause trouble…but nothing happened. The leader looked over at the man to his left, who nodded.

“He claims he was separated from his parents as a child while on a trip with his uncle, who was taken by illness shortly after,” the soldier explained, “his signing style looks…foreign, but he’s no amateur.”

The leader frowned, narrowing his eyes while he looked them over again. Jesse refrained from smiling; he could tell he knew there was no way to prove they were lying, and to arrest them would be to risk missing their true targets. Any sign of conflict was a good sign for their group.

“Truth or not, travel through the canyon is forbidden by order of the Earth King,” he announced at last, “and it will remain that way until we find those five travelers.” He smirked. “I suggest the five of you wait nearby until this is all sorted out. Perhaps you will stay at our camp—as our guests, of course.”

“Thank you,” Jack replied, bowing his head in respectful gratitude, “but we wouldn’t want to be a burden. We’ll be fine making camp on our own.”

“So be it,” the leader replied, shooing them away, “but don’t stray too far; the way will be open soon, I’m sure.”

As they turned away, Jesse gave Gabe the slightest of nudges. They were going to be watching them carefully, he knew, and it was likely their leader had already made up his mind about them. His father quickly gave a slight nod to signal he knew, too. The soldiers would make their move soon, but there was no telling how soon.

When he heard Hanzo gasp, Jesse whipped around to snap into his fighting stance. He saw one of the soldiers had flipped open his pack with the tip of his spear, revealing the artfully crafted bow he carried. Clearly, the move was sooner than expected.

“You’re all good actors, but there’s no mistaking Fire Nation craftsmanship,” the leader stated, clearly pleased with himself, “and there aren’t a lot of people tall as the poor worried father, here. You’re coming in for questioning.”

Without waiting for permission Jesse clenched his fists at his hips and stamped his foot into the ground, launching the ostrich horse and its rider far from Hanzo’s side with a pillar of rock that jutted suddenly from the ground like a spring.

Reinhardt let out an excited, almost joyous yell and whipped his hammer off his back to swing it around, knocking the legs out from under several of the ostrich horses nearest to him and toppling their riders to the ground. The soldiers responded promptly by leaping to their feet. Although most of them were able to dodge his powerful hammer as it swung back and forth, Reinhardt managed to keep them at a distance, preventing any of their spears from getting close enough to wound him.

One of the spear-wielding riders swung down at Jack’s head with his spear, but Jack had already slid into an unarmed fighting stance. He jabbed his hand upward as the weapon came down and allowed the rider’s own strength to snap the shaft against his fist, causing the blade to plant itself harmlessly in the ground. With a flick of the wrist Jack grasped the broken spear shaft and yanked the rider out of his saddle with it. He whipped the weapon around as if it were a bo staff and smacked the soldier down into the dirt, unconscious. Spinning the weapon into position behind him, he leapt forward to grab the confused ostrich horse’s reins with his free hand and flung himself into the saddle to rush at the next enemy.

Hanzo proved himself to be a faster shot than the five mounted archers trying to wound him. Their restraint didn’t go unnoticed, and it was clear they knew exactly who they were dealing with, warned by the treacherous Akande. After each volley of arrows he successfully dodged he managed to whip one arrow out to respond, felling one archer with each shot; it was clear to him they’d never dealt with any of the Yuyan archers. He was drawing his bow for a fourth kill when the cry of a charging ostrich horse warned him to jump back. After narrowly avoiding a swipe from a passing rider, he whipped around to see the leader jump to the ground, face him, and take an earthbending stance. Fighting earthbenders without his own bending was one thing he hadn’t been prepared for…

The ground rumbled beneath Hanzo’s feet and the rock beneath him gave way in a swirl of sand, threatening to swallow his foot and plant him there. It’d taken the bottom half of his boot before it stopped and he was able to pull free. He looked to see Jesse with his heel grinding in the dirt, cancelling the lead earthbender’s attack with his own. Hanzo paused to nod his thanks to him before instantly flinging an arrow to knock another out of the air, away from his companion’s head.

“Go get ‘em, sweetpea,” Jesse teased before turning his full attention on the leader. Hanzo put distance between himself and any of the three earthbenders to finish eliminating the troublesome archers.

Gabe leapt to the side as one of the earthbending underlings tried to push him back into the trunk of a tree with a ripple of earth. He whipped his dual butterfly swords from the hidden sheath in his vest as soon as he landed and rushed forward. The earthbender launched rocks at him, which he was able to knock away with quick swipes of his swords, only slowing down a little in the process. He leapt in the air with a growl and rammed his knee into the man’s face, knocking him flat on his back.

Whipping back to his feet, the former Earth Kingdom officer found himself surrounded by four of the spearmen, each unhorsed by Reinhardt’s swipes. He watched each of them carefully, utilizing the reflections in his sword blades to keep an eye on those standing behind him while he waited for one of them to make the first move. He saw one of them nod, just before all four of them closed in on him at once. Gabe smirked and waited for them to get in range. In a deadly swirl of steel he spun his blades around him in a full circle, causing the four attackers to fall simultaneously to the ground in agony. After clearing the area, he took a quick look around to identify his next targets.

Jack rode his way past the remaining mounted soldiers, swinging his staff to knock them each from their saddles as he sped by. While the ostrich horses wandered in confusion and some of their riders tried to reseat themselves Jack whipped back around for another pass and began knocking the grounded soldiers hard in the heads to render those he could unconscious and daze the rest to keep them from striking back. He spotted Gabe in a fierce hand-to-hand fight with two soldiers, too distracted to notice the earthbender behind him pulling a stone from the ground to crush him. Jack hefted the broken spear and launched it at the bender like a javelin.

His concentration broken by the end of the staff jabbing him hard in the back, the earthbender dropped his stone weapon and spun around to face him, his stance suffering from the pain in his spine. Jack directed his mount to dodge flying rocks as he rode parallel to the forest’s edge, drawing his enemy’s fire away from the others.

Jesse drew a wedge of rock from the ground to block the hail of stones the lead earthbender hurled at him. He waited for a break in the attacks to jump up and kick the rock, sending it toward him as a projectile. Having been distracted by the flying wedge, the leader failed to notice him slip off to his left, where he leapt into the air and slammed his fists in the ground, causing a ripple of rock that rose into a full-blown wave as it rushed toward the much older bender. The wave of rock collapsed on contact with the leader’s fist, causing a plume of dust to hover in its wake.

“Not bad,” the man grunted, “either you’ve been trained by a master or you have too much time on your hands. With a clumsy technique like yours, it’s probably the latter.”

Jesse put on a cocky grin and tipped his hat, causing the officer’s lips to form a snarl before a furious barrage of rocks flew at him. Keeping light on his toes Jesse managed to avoid being struck until the frustrated soldier sent a boulder toward him. The younger bender leapt forward to roll over his shoulder and back to his feet, his grin widening as the iron he’d been summoning from the earth throughout the fight finally solidified into a single pellet in front of him. As far as he knew, he was the only earthbender prepared to stop metal.

Hanzo spun around after finishing off the last of the archers and spearmen trying to capture him. Upon seeing his guard commander fleeing from the attacks of the last remaining earthbending soldier on the field, whose back was thankfully turned thanks to the distraction Morrison had provided, he settled on his next target. But he was out of arrows. Undeterred, the fire lord ran toward him, his steps only producing a light padding sound as he advanced on the earthbender and leapt to swing his bow forward and around the man’s head until it was secure against his throat.

Bracing himself with his knees against the other man’s back, and keeping his feet from contacting the earth he would be able to use against him, Hanzo applied steadily increasing pressure until the bender was forced to his knees while gasping for breath. It wasn’t until he’d collapsed fully to the ground that Hanzo took his bow off his windpipe and stood to survey the result of the battle.

The entirety of the Earth Kingdom force lie on the ground, either unconscious or dead, the mostly-uninjured ostrich horses trying to figure out what to do while their masters were out of commission. Jack rode amongst them, gathering the reins of four other mounts before returning to the others with the animals in tow.

Jesse looked over at Hanzo while Jack approached and realized he was smiling against his will. Things may have been awkward between them during their idle hours, but they’d saved each other’s lives. It’d been so fluid, so easy and had filled his heart with hope; there was a bond to salvage, undeniably.

The five travelers looked toward the canyon’s edge when someone grunted. One of the earthbenders, the one Gabe had thought he’d knocked out cold stood shakily.

“You think you can just defy the Earth King?” he demanded, clumsily taking his stance, “you can’t fight the entire army!”

Reinhardt groaned and swung his hammer back to catch him before he could throw his first rock, knocking him over the edge of the canyon. “It seems we will need to have a talk with this king,” the former lieutenant growled.

“Yes,” Hanzo agreed, climbing onto the ostrich horse Jack provided for him, “soon he will face the consequences of breaking a treaty with the Fire Nation.”

Gabe grunted unenthusiastically while Jack tossed the reins of a third mount to him. “I hope you’re not brewing up another goddamn war,” he growled.

Hanzo arched an eyebrow while staring down at him unappreciatively. “The king is my foe, not the people he’s endangered by siding with Akande,” he declared, “while his men must pay the price for his stupidity I hope to keep the collateral damage to a minimum. A personal confrontation will suffice.”

Jack handed off the largest and strongest of the ostrich horses to Reinhardt, then looked over at Gabe with nothing but professionalism written across his face. “For now, we need to focus on crossing this canyon,” he stated, “what do you know about it?”

“Only that an earthbender guide is necessary to travel through it, and that bringing food is forbidden, to avoid the wildlife,” Gabe replied, taking his ostrich with him to peer over the edge of the canyon, “but we won’t find a guide here; the soldiers will’ve sent him away to keep anyone from crossing.”

“We have me,” Jesse pointed out from atop his own mount, winking.

“Last time you went through here you were eight years old,” Gabe retorted while climbing onto his ostrich’s back. He sighed, looking toward the far edge of the canyon. “With a skilled guide it’d take us a day and a night to cross. With an overconfident ingrate at the helm it’d probably take us a week, all without food.”

Jesse groaned and urged his mount toward the gate that marked the start of the path. “Then you guide us, and I’ll take care of the earthbendin’, ‘less you wanna give up right here,” he growled, looking back at him over his shoulder.

“We have to try,” Jack reminded the blacksmith gravely, “we head back now and we’ll just find more traps in our way. They’ll’ve assumed the force they stationed here would stop us from crossing. By the time they get word they were defeated we’ll be long gone.”

“Right,” Gabe grumbled, “we’ll try it your way, but if we end up starving you owe me, Morrison. I know a few things you could do to make it up to me.”

The commander smirked and huffed a chuckle out through his nose before going to join Jesse at the gate. The other three were soon to follow and they began their winding descent to the canyon floor below.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Hanzo sat near the campfire carving new arrowheads from the remaining pieces of fox antelope antlers with his dagger while Reyes and Commander Morrison tended to the ostrich horses, though he doubted that was all they were doing with the privacy they’d won themselves. As focused and discreet as the two were during the day, it was hard not to notice the attraction between them, the evidence of a past relationship that would’ve been obvious to the fire lord even if he hadn’t been told about it.

Reinhardt sat on the other side of the fire, with his back resting against an enormous boulder behind him. The rock was so big it even managed to make him look small as he lay there, snoring quietly. He always seemed unbothered by their surroundings, perfectly comfortable no matter where they were. A man of his strength could afford to be so, Hanzo assumed.

The canyon was unsettlingly quiet, aside from the occasional chirp of a cricket and the former lieutenant’s loud breaths. Without the bird calls and plant rustling he’d become accustomed to after days of traveling through plains and forests, everything around their camp seemed lifeless. The high stone walls caused wind to howl eerily as it passed through them, and even with all the rocks and boulders that surrounded them he felt exposed, vulnerable in the dark. He hoped with every shred of it he had that they would reach the end before nightfall the next day.

Even after just over a month of being deprived of his bending, he still felt empty. He’d hoped he would become accustomed to the feeling, but it clearly wasn’t the case. It was as if he resided in a permanent state of not belonging, no matter where he went. Each time he awoke from his slumber it was like waking into a nightmare, before the energy of his companions gave him some semblance of comfort.

He missed his home…his brother…and he even missed his father, the man he’d come to despise just before Akande’s betrayal exposed his mistake to him. He still hadn’t told anyone of that mistake and his father, the only other person who knew of it, was dead. The assassin. The memory of his mistake sat inside him like a burning coal. It would remain there forever, a constant reminder of his shame and lost honor.

Hanzo sighed at himself and tried to stop thinking about it. The canyon’s haunting aura was bringing it all on, undoubtedly. There was nothing to draw his attention away, no one to…distract him. As much as he knew it was necessary, he regretted dismissing McCree. That one moment he’d lost control of himself was so liberating, and he longed to lose control again but it was a freedom the fire lord couldn’t indulge in. He’d done so many things wrong already; he couldn’t let himself fail again.

He realized he’d been staring at McCree when the man turned around, prompting him to look back down at the heads he was carving before he could be found out. Things hadn’t been right since he denied his advances, with both of them to blame. McCree had been quiet and distant, and Hanzo had done his part to separate them and fight off any temptation to go to him. It’d resulted in a degree of coldness that didn’t exist between any other members of their group and he was sure the others had noticed, though none of them had mentioned it to him.

The earthbender plopped himself in an easy seated position beside him, much to his surprise. It was the closest proximity they’d been in for a long time. Perhaps it was the skirmish; in the heat of battle, neither of them stopped to think about how they felt. They’d connected in a way only two allied fighters could and Hanzo had been wondering what the result would be. It seemed his answer was soon to come.

For the longest time, neither of them said a word…until Hanzo opened his mouth first: “you proved yourself very capable today, McCree; you have my thanks.”

“Anytime,” the earthbender replied lightly, before he heard him shift his weight as he reached over to deposit a collection of carefully-shaped shafts of wood near his project. “Figured you could use some help; been savin’ those. Think they’ll do?”

Hanzo looked up at him briefly, then picked one of the sticks up to turn it around between his index finger and thumb. They weren’t carved the same way he would have done it himself, but they were straight and smooth. “Yes,” he murmured, “it seems you have done this before.”

“Yeah, I help Pa with the weaponsmithin’ here or there…probably not as much as he’d like me to, but I learned enough.” Hanzo nodded his acknowledgment and began to carve out an opening in one of his arrowheads to fit the shafts while silence once again settled in between them. “Listen,” McCree began at last, prompting him to look up again, “I wanted to apologize.”

Hanzo chuckled humorlessly. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

McCree smiled back. “No, I really do,” he replied, “I shouldn’t’ve pressured ya. I mean, I thought I was bein’ a gentleman ‘bout it but I shouldn’ta kissed you right after you told me ‘bout yer father n’ all the troubles that came with it.”

Hanzo sighed quietly, shaking his head slowly while he placed the arrowhead he was holding on the end of one of the sticks, then went back to widening the opening for it. “I do not want you to apologize for kissing me,” he admitted.

“You…sure ‘bout that? I mean, it’s been downright uncomfortable ‘tween us since n’ I…well, I don’ want it to stay that way.” Hanzo smiled down at the ground, unwilling to show it to him. He’d been unsure about mentioning the same issue. He wanted them to be allies, not jilted lovers.

“I am sure,” he whispered, “we are not children.”

McCree’s hand appeared in front of him, welcoming. “Friends?”

Hanzo looked up to show him the smile he’d been hiding and grasped his hand firmly. “I would like that.”

Jesse grinned wide, an expression that, for once, didn’t annoy him. While he continued to craft more arrows Jesse leaned back against his hands braced on the ground behind him. Hanzo was comforted by his presence, the howl of the wind suddenly less unsettling with his breathing so near. New sounds seemed to present themselves, though he knew they’d been there all along: the calming crackle of the campfire’s flames, the ostrich horses squawking and chuffing as they communicated with each other before going to sleep, clearly unbothered by the quiet lifelessness of the stony canyon.

His smile lingered, something that didn’t happen often. At least, until something knocked a piece of rock off the cliff side, causing it to tumble down and knock against the stones as it fell, creating an echo followed by an almost guilty-sounding bug-like chitter.

“We are not alone,” Hanzo murmured.

“Nah,” Jesse agreed, his tone revealing he was unbothered by the commotion, “been feelin’ those critters here and there, skitterin’ around. They like to watch us, but I’m guessin’ without the scent of food they’re not all that interested once they get a look. We ain’t worth tanglin’ with.”

“You’ve…felt them?” Hanzo wondered aloud, looking over at him curiously, “do you ‘feel’ all creatures?”

“Anythin’ that’s walkin’ or hoppin’ on the ground,” the earthbender replied, “it’s an important part of eathbendin’, listenin’ to the earth itself. Helps ya predict what yer opponent’s gonna do next, ‘specially if it’s another earthbender.”

“That sounds like a patient endeavor,” the fire lord observed, cocking an eyebrow, “I didn’t realize you had the capacity.”

Jesse chuckled, shrugging a little. “Well, when ya spend most of yer early childhood livin’ in a tiny village where nothin’ ever happens yer mind wanders…then it became a matter of survival.” His tone darkened noticeably, causing Hanzo’s brow to furrow in concern. “My parents were killed in the war, n’ I was left on my own. Had to figure out how to get food fer myself, n’ to fight off the bigger kids’r anyone else who tried to hurt me, ‘least ‘til Jack n’ Pa found me.”

The war. It’d caused so much suffering, and his family’s desire for power had been the cause of it. Hearing Jesse’s past, he could only wonder why he was always so friendly toward him, the last of the Shimadas, the sole remaining descendant of that violent line. His family had been problematic even before his grandfather’s war—constant threats and skirmishes, displays of power to instill fear and obedience. They were tyrants, and he knew that was how the world saw them.

“I am sorry,” he murmured, looking away from him. He had to ask, but he didn’t want to see how Jesse would react to the question: “why…do you wish to be my friend? Do you not—are you unaware of…how the war began?” Jesse laughed beside him, much to his shock and relief. “What is so amusing?” he asked without looking up.

“I know something a lotta people seem to forget,” Jesse replied casually, “see: I know yer not yer grandfather, yer not yer father, yer not anyone but you, like anyone else. I figured it out when I saw you—you got the look n’ speech of a real fine n’ proper noble, but that don’t define who you are.”

At last, Hanzo looked up at him quizzically. “It doesn’t?”

Jesse laughed again as if it was obvious to everyone but the fire lord. “My father was a farmer: hardworkin’, down-t’earth, n’ absolutely unconcerned with everythin’ goin’ on in the world ‘round him if it ain’t got anythin’ t’do with cattle n’ cabbages,” he rambled on, shrugging as he continued, “my Pa’s a former soldier turned blacksmith with a chronic bad attitude n’ a taste fer attractive Fire Nation men.”

Hanzo held back a small laugh, though he wasn’t sure why he found that so funny. After the awkwardness between them had gone away it seemed talking to Jesse was easier than it’d ever been. It was the charisma he’d noticed from the beginning, but with everything out in the open it was no longer a threat.

“My point is,” the earthbender went on, “I don’t know anyone who could say I’m all those things. I picked the best parts—maybe some of the bad parts, too—of both my dads, even my mom, n’ ran off to make my own person: me. It’s like that fer anyone, so why should it be any different fer the fire lord?” He grinned. “That make sense to ya?”

Hanzo allowed himself to smile at last, nodding. “Yes, it makes sense. You are much wiser than you seem.”

Jesse flicked the end of his pipe, winking. “That whole havin’ too much time on my hands thing, again,” he replied nonchalantly, “some guys use it t’chase tail’r pull stunts that’ll get ‘em killed one day. Me, I like to think while I’m chasin’ tail n’ pullin’ dangerous stunts.”

Hanzo scoffed, rolling his eyes. “How noble of you,” he muttered.

Jesse let out a long sigh, leaning back again. “Yeah…I mean, don’t get me wrong: I loved my parents. Miss ‘em everyday. But it’s somethin’ that can’t be changed, even if I were to kill every member of the Fire Nation’s royal family. Way I see it, acceptin’ what happened and learnin’ from it is more productive.”

“It has made you strong.”

Jesse grinned. “Sure did. I started realizin’ that most other earthbenders’re too busy throwin’ rocks to take a good listen, even the ones who make a fuss ‘bout how well they were trained. That officer we fought yesterday, too. He had good reflexes, but he had no idea what I was really waitin’ fer.”

“And what was that?”

“The right shot,” Jesse answered simply before sticking his index finger and thumb outward, making the shape of an L with them before…seeming to aim down it? He made a sound—“pah”, then laughed and lowered his hand again. As many questions as Hanzo had racing through his mind after the strange display, he decided against asking any of them.

“You do seem to have the accuracy of an assassin,” he replied, “another product of your abundant free time?”

Jesse’s grin grew and he sat up straight before putting his palm flat on the ground. “Big blasts n’ boulders have their place in a fight, but way I figure, why spend so much energy when the same thing can be done with one well-placed pebble?”

As Hanzo watched, dust began to emerge from the ground and solidify in one dark grey pebble that hovered in front of Jesse. The earthbender reached his hands out to the floating rock and began to shape it with his bending, causing it to form a triangular point…a crude arrowhead. He let it fall into his palm and tossed it to Hanzo, who caught it and looked it over. It was heavier than he thought.

“Is this metal?” he asked.

Jesse nodded, taking a handful of dirt in his hand to let it sift through his fingers. “There’s metal dust in pretty much any square inch of dirt you can lay yer eyes on, ‘specially in this canyon,” he explained, “it ain’t enough to mine normally, but I can feel enough of it to make little trinkets like that one. See, when ya work enough with metal you start to realize it ain’t any different from stone—it’s all earth, just looks different when people melt it down and shape it. Takes a different kinda listenin’ to bend it--I call it metalbendin’.”

Hanzo pocketed the metal arrowhead, more impressed than he thought the earthbender could ever make him. “There seem to be variations to every bending style,” he mused, “for firebenders, there is the rare art of conjuring and manipulating lightning. As carefully as I have trained, I was never able to master the technique myself; if done improperly, you risk stopping your own heart with the lightning’s destructive energy.”

Jesse tilted his head, raising an eyebrow in interest. “Well, when you get yer bendin’ back yer gonna have to figure it out; that’s somethin’ I gotta see.”

Hanzo let himself laugh quietly, nodding. “You will be the first to know if I manage it.”

Jesse leaned forward again, resting his elbows on his thighs while he watched him finish one of his arrows. “So…I don’t mean to pick at a scab, but I can’t help wonderin’: what’s it like?”

Hanzo’s smile shrank, but he didn’t let it disappear into a frown; his curiosity was inevitable. “Cold,” he replied grimly, struggling to describe the sensation of losing his bending, “and it feels as if I have lost one of my senses, as if I were suddenly unable to smell. Sometimes it’s simply an indescribable feeling of wrongness, other times it’s like I haven’t slept in weeks, but it remains constant.”

“It changes?”

Hanzo nodded slowly. “I suppose one does not realize how many aspects of life their bending influences until it’s been taken. It’s something I’d had my entire life, connected even to my emotions, and then it was suddenly gone.”

“You mentioned she called herself a ‘bloodbender’…”

“Yes,” Hanzo confirmed, his mind drifting to the metal arrowhead, “she was a waterbender. Perhaps as there is earth in metal that allows you to use it, she uses the water in a person’s blood.” He grimaced, his stomach churning. “She could control my movements, prevented me from fighting back. But how she made me incapable of firebending, I may never know.”

“Sounds cowardly to me,” Jesse grunted, flicking a pebble at the rock Reinhardt was resting against. The resulting sound caused the large man to stir in his sleep, but he didn’t wake up.

“Cowardly or not, it is effective,” Hanzo muttered, “we will need to find a way to counter her before we attempt to liberate the palace or we will be walking into our doom.”

Jesse hummed contemplatively while scratching his scalp, stopping to pick a grain of sand from his hair and toss it away. “Maybe another waterbender,” he murmured, “a strong one. I can stop other earthbenders’ attacks if I catch ‘em soon enough; might work the same for her.”

“A sound theory,” Hanzo agreed, “unfortunately, we don’t know how far Akande’s influence has extended. The list of people we can trust is short.”

“Pa knew a waterbender once, a real good one if I can remember right,” Jesse murmured, picking at his hair again, “she was ‘round the first time I met Jack n’ Reinhardt, too. They were a real group o’ fighters all together. If I know Pa like I think I do, he’ll find a way to reach out to her after his business in the Western Air Temple is done.”

“You think he will ‘get the team back together’, then,” the fire lord mused.

“You bet he will,” Jesse replied, punching Hanzo’s arm playfully, “buck up, Han. This fight ain’t over ‘til we give up, n’ my pa never gives up.”

\---

Jack and Gabe walked side-by-side while scoping out the area surrounding their camp for the night, their way lit by the torch Gabe carried. They’d located several cave openings after tending to the ostrich horses, and the creeping sounds of creatures inside warned them not to explore further. As Gabe had promised, the monsters dwelling in the canyon had left them alone, disinterested by their lack of food.

Unfortunately, it also meant there were plenty of grumbling stomachs among them. Part of Jack wished one of the creatures would try to challenge them so they could kill it for its meat…but the delicious smell of meat cooking over an open fire would no doubt cause more of a problem than the faint scent of dried venison and stale bread. Luckily, their mounts had kept up their strength by grazing on the few weeds growing among the rocks and their progress through the canyon had been swift.

“Seems we’re in the clear for tonight,” Jack murmured, careful not to disturb the serenity of the night and any creatures that might be sleeping through it, “it’s about time we headed back.”

The light dimmed when the torch behind him clattered to the ground suddenly, causing him to spin around with his guard up. What happened wasn’t the sort of attack he was expecting: Gabe grabbed his wrist and shoved him up against the canyon wall, pinning him there with the weight of his own body before he could react to the ambush.

“Looks like I got you again,” the blacksmith growled, grinning, “how did someone so oblivious become the fire lord’s guard commander?”

“Are you saying you’re a better soldier than me?” Jack growled back, arching an eyebrow in a fake challenge.

“I’m saying I could teach you a thing or two if you weren’t so arrogant.” He felt Gabe’s free hand entangle in his own, their fingers embracing tightly before he pressed it against the stone behind him, too. He felt his pulse quickening while Gabe leaned in to gently run the tip of his nose along the skin of his neck, before his lips met it. He laughed a little when the darker man’s mustache tickled him, the soft breaths from his nostrils contributing to the titillating sensation.

“Don’t get too excited,” he warned him in a whisper, “we have a job to do.”

“It’s always about the job with you, isn’t it?” Gabe grumbled against his throat, “your king’s safe with Reinhardt and Jesse back at camp, we’ve scoped the perimeter and secured the ostrich horses; your job’s done for tonight.”

“Then we should head back…” Jack murmured, his heart only half in it. It’d been a while since he’d last felt like being coy, and the last time was in the same company. He knew as much as he pretended to deny him it would only make him want him more; Gabe always seemed to be in control, but Jack knew how to manipulate him even with his hands trapped against a wall, and he knew he knew that.

“You’re not going anywhere, Soldier,” the blacksmith rumbled, pressing him harder against the rock while staring at him with intensely determined eyes. He nipped his earlobe as punishment for playing hard-to-get, prompting Jack to hiss, acting as if it’d hurt more than it actually did. “That’s an order.”

“Royal Guard Commander outranks Captain,” Jack reminded him.

“Respect your elders,” Gabe whispered, his lips dangerously close.

“I’ll give you one thing: you’re good at abusing four years’ age difference.”

“That better not be all you’re giving me.” Gabe released his hands to slide his own up his body and cup the back of Jack’s neck. He pulled him roughly into a heated embrace and the commander finally dropped his ruse to give in to the kiss.

Jack slipped his liberated hands through the opening of Gabe’s vest to maneuver them around his back, his ungloved fingers caressing his warm skin while he held him close. He felt the blacksmith grin against his lips before he reached down to undo the top fastener of his vest, making it easier for him.

“That’s more like it,” he whispered. They slid down the canyon wall until they were on the ground. The torchlight a few feet from them began to die out until the last thing Jack saw before it left them in the darkness was Gabe hunched over him, a salaciously eager smile on his face.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Genji came to sit next to Zenyatta by a campfire he and the others had built outside Master Ana’s hut. The building itself was very small, and couldn’t house all of them while Angela trained, but Genji wasn’t too disappointed; he’d come to like sleeping under the stars, despite the effect the absence of the sun had on his bending. Iris was sleeping just outside the perimeter of the fire’s glow, having started to get lazier after staying in one place for so long. She deserved some extensive rest after their long journey, of course.

While Angela spent her days—and part of her nights—training diligently with Master Ana, Genji and Zenyatta passed their days in the company of the airbenders. Although their style was so different from firebending Genji had started to see a few things he was eager to try in his next battle, things like using one’s bending to dodge and avoid attacks rather than solely to cause damage. He’d always been good at dodging, but it’d all been the work of his body alone. He could save so much energy with his bending to help.

He avoided talking about his race with Fareeha, having lost miserably. As challenging as it was to his ego, he had to remind himself that every style had its strengths…and speed belonged to the airbenders. Masterful agility, however, was a trait he knew he could transfer with enough practice.

Zenyatta had been pestering him to take part in his meditation sessions, which he did outside of the temple’s designated chambers for his benefit. Although the prince wasn’t forbidden to enter the room, he wasn’t eager to open that box again. He was still unsure what he might do when he eventually saw Hanzo again…or what he _should_ do. His brother had committed a crime, yes, but the time he’d had to think had started to ease some of the pain he felt from the betrayal. Another venture into his spiritual self and he was worried he’d give in. He had to stay focused, he’d tell himself while passing the room by. And yet, for some reason, it always stung somewhere inside each time he refused to accept Zenyatta’s offer. He…missed Hanzo. He knew that much.

To avoid the strain of conflict inside him, Genji had put his attention on Angela. In response to the prince’s prodding she’d agreed to demonstrate what she’d learned in the three weeks they’d been staying near the temple. Master Ana had been insistent that Genji not bother—or even watch them while they trained, and that meant his curiosity had been left hungering for far too long. According to the master herself, Angela was a great student, and Genji hadn’t doubted it for a second. But it was one thing to believe, and another altogether to see one’s belief proven warranted.

Angela came to stand on the other side of the campfire from the two boys after bringing a pot of water over to it. She straightened to plant her hands on her hips while looking over her preparations. She’d already placed three candles to their left, unlit, but hadn’t yet told them what they were for. “Now, keep in mind,” she began sternly, “you two have had far more training than I have. If you must tease me, please be gentle about it.”

“We will not tease you,” Zenyatta assured her with a light chuckle.

“Right,” Genji agreed, “besides, I’ve only seen _one_ master waterbender; I don’t know enough to be a fair judge, anyway.”

Angela’s lips formed a stubborn pout and she narrowed her eyes at the prince. “Then don’t judge,” she grumbled. She gestured to the candles with a jut of her chin. “Make yourself useful and light those candles.”

When Genji laughed his response and did as she asked with a quick and easy flick, her hands finally left her hips and she put her feet about shoulder width apart, her body positioned at a diagonal angle to where they sat. Her knees were bent, but only a little. Although the stance was nothing like the more aggressive-looking stance he and his brother had been taught to take, she seemed to be confident in it, and that made it look right in his eye. With a fluid wave of her arms she drew some of the water from the pot in a long, thin levitating stream.

“I already knew most of this one, but my aim is better, now,” she said proudly.

Genji recognized the water whip she’d used to try defending them from the hunter outside Omashu, though it wasn’t quivering like it was before. Her technique had always been strong, but now she had power and confidence to back it up and it showed. In the blink of an eye she whisked the stream forward and it sliced at the lit candles, putting all three of them out in one graceful cut…and cut was definitely the word for it. Squinting, Genji could see the wicks hadn’t just been extinguished, but were severed at the base where they disappeared in the wax.

“Oh, wow,” he breathed, grinning, “what else can you cut?”

Angela laughed incredulously, as if she hadn’t been expecting him to ask but was hardly surprised. He tried to take that as a compliment. “Anything, I think, as long as I have the time,” she mused, “a tree would take more than one cut, obviously.”

“Then you’ll get the firewood next time?” he teased her, his eyebrow raised cheekily.

“What else have you learned?” Zenyatta asked, nudging Genji with his elbow.

Angela laughed and proceeded to pull the rest of the water from the pot, causing it to hover in front of her shaped as a perfect globe. She kept it there for a seconds, then took a deep breath and exhaled, a fog of vapor exiting her mouth with the air. The large globe of water began to harden until it’d been covered in a layer of ice. Through it, the onlookers could see the water inside was still sloshing freely. Apparently winded, Angela let the ice ball of water settle on the ground before lowering her arms.

“That one’s a little harder,” she said, catching her breath, “with enough practice I should be able to freeze it solid.” Clearing her throat, she took her stance once again. “But at least I can do this.” She flicked her hand out and the top of the ice ball shattered, giving her access to the water inside. With a grand wave of her arms, a burst of water erupted from the opening before separating. The sections of water elongated and took points before freezing into dangerous-looking darts that she fired into the ground near the candles, skewering two of them before the ice melted in an instant and splashed on the ground.

Genji leaned forward eagerly. “We should spar,” he said.

Her eyes wide, Angela dropped the water she’d been pulling out of the mud and stared over at him. “What? You must be joking.”

“I’m not,” the prince retorted, standing up, “learning techniques is one thing, but learning to use them in real life is where the value lies.”

“I hardly think I’m ready for a fight,” Angela grumbled back stubbornly, crossing her arms, “I’m not showing you these things so you can beat me and make yourself feel better about losing a race to a twelve-year-old girl.”

Clenching his fists, he shot a glare at Zenyatta, who simply smiled. “I tried not to tell her,” the monk said apologetically, though the apology part was undermined by the amusement in his eyes, “but I failed.”

Genji groaned and pushed his hair back, sighing. “I’m not going to beat you,” he said, “it’s sparring; the goal is to practice, not win.”

“One of us could still get hurt,” Angela reminded him, “and I don’t want to disappoint Ana.”

“I can control my attacks,” Genji promised quickly, “and it’ll help you to learn better control by _not_ trying to actually hurt me. And if you do hurt me, you can always fix me up again, right?”

“I am sorry, Angela,” Zenyatta spoke up, “but I think Genji’s idea may be a wise one. And there is always the matter of learning to defend. You wouldn’t want your first experience to be against someone intent on killing you, correct?”

Angela sucked the corner of her lip in to chew on it nervously, then she finally uncrossed her arms. “It was my hope I’d never have to use these techniques against another person, but I suppose you’re right,” she admitted. She huffed and narrowed her eyes at the prince. “If you burn my hair I freeze your boots to a tree trunk and leave you there until sunrise.”

Genji laughed, sliding into his firebending stance. “It’s a deal.” Angela let out a reluctant sigh and took her own stance, but it was clear to him it was suffering from her wavering confidence. Zenyatta pushed himself away from them with a gust of air, landing lightly in Iris’s saddle that sat on the ground a safe distance away. “Did Master Ana teach you to block?” Genji asked.

The waterbender nodded, her jaw set in determination. That was good, at least; she didn’t seem like she would run. Although he knew it would’ve been nice to warn her before his first attack, he decided against it, for the sake of her confidence. He knew she could do it…she just needed to realize it herself.

Genji thrust his fist forward, sending a simple fire blast at her. Her teeth clenched visibly, Angela swept her arms up, bringing a gush of water with them that intercepted the blast, causing both forces to dissipate on impact. The prince grinned, pleased, and followed it up with another jab from the other fist, attacking much slower than he was accustomed to. The waterbender blocked it again, her reflexes faster the second time. His breast swelled with pride when he saw a smile appear on her face.

“Nice,” he praised her emphatically, “a little faster, now.” He punched again, then again with the other hand, and both attacks were blocked as they had been before. Angela’s stance became more solid, more focused. Genji decided to kick it up a notch. He hopped forward and landed with his previously far foot forward, a blast erupting from below to rush up toward her. She jumped aside to avoid it and swiped her arm in the direction of his foot, which suddenly grew cold.

Looking down, Genji noticed she’d frozen him to the mud he’d mistakenly stamped his boot in. “Impressive,” he said, trying to pull his foot free. It wouldn’t budge, and that impressed him even more. Channeling his chi down his leg, he made the heat around his foot increase, causing steam to rush upward as he quickly melted himself free. To his surprise, Angela hadn’t waited for him to get free before plotting her next move. She sent a jet of water at him, which hit him forcefully in the back and knocked him flat on his stomach. Zenyatta laughed from the sidelines.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, “I’m so sorry, Genji; I thought you would block that!”

The prince laughed and got back on his feet, brushing mud off his pants. “Don’t apologize for a job well done,” he replied. He turned to face her and bowed humbly. “I’m the one who should say sorry for underestimating you.” She smiled at him, her cheeks flushing a little, and Genji tried not to let that distract him too much. She’d clearly learned faster than he thought she would, and that meant it was time for him to step it up again.

He twirled forward, whipping forth a wave of flame that curved as it traveled through the air between them. Angela grunted while matching his attack with water to cancel it out then drew the resulting steam toward herself to condense it and freeze it into a blade of ice that she shot at him. He dodged and burst himself upward with a fiery jet from his foot before kicking it forward in the air, causing the jet to erupt into a burst that flew down toward her head.

She caught the burst with a wall of water then drew the water around herself while he landed. The liquid surrounded her legs and lifted her off the ground, keeping her aloft in a swirling pillar of blue. Genji looked up, smirking. “Now you’re just showing off.” Before he could taunt her again, Angela whipped down at him, striking him across the cheek. He yelped and fell back in the grass from the unexpected force of the attack. Putting a hand up to his face, he realized she’d cut the skin.

“Oh, no,” she groaned, landing back on the ground, “you see? I knew something like this would happen.”

Genji laughed, holding the small wound. “Honestly, I’ve never fought a waterbender before, aside from the swamp monster,” he admitted, “guess we _both_ need practice. But I bet it would’ve turned out different if it was day instead of night.”

“You’d never done this before and you still said everything would be fine?” she demanded incredulously, “you reckless, over-confident—ugh!” She stormed over to him, knelt, and pulled his hand away from his cheek to look at the cut, shaking her head angrily. He could tell she was angrier at herself than at him…but she was still mad at him, no doubt.

Genji’s heart did a back flip in his chest when she brushed her thumb over his cheek, wiping the blood away. It’d stung, yes, but her touch was always so sweet. Deciding to take a chance, he lurched forward to peck her on the lips, his cheeks flushing when he recoiled to see her reaction. Her eyes wide as saucers, her cheeks flushed too, taking a bright rosy hue.

“That was forward of you,” she stated, still sorting the situation out in her head.

“Is it…ok?” he asked. To his surprise, her lips formed a smirk just before a gentle burst of water hit him in the face, soaking his head entirely. She giggled and backed up to stand before she turned around, her skirt sweeping out around her, and sauntered away. Genji frowned and looked over at Zenyatta, perplexed. “Was it ok?” he asked desperately.

The monk tilted his head and gestured for him to follow her, his expression practically screaming “you idiot” at him. Grinning wide, Genji jumped to his feet and hurried after her. He caught up to her on the edge of the tree line, where she stopped to face him. He smirked and pushed his sopping wet hair out of his face, then summoned a tiny candle-like flame to hover over his hand. He stepped closer cautiously to avoid ruining whatever moment was upon them by moving too quickly.

“You never answered me,” he whispered.

Angela giggled again and reached out to put her hands over his cheeks before kissing him…on the nose. The light flickered in his hand as a growing sense of despair presented itself in his heart. “It’s ok,” she said. Her words did much to slow the growth, but he’d been hoping for much more than the sort of kiss one might give to an infant.

“Angela…” he began slowly, hesitantly while he worked up the courage, “I like you. I mean…more than I would like a friend.”

Angela tilted her head, taking her hands off his cheeks. “Obviously,” she muttered, “I don’t know why it took you so long to say something. I thought you were supposed to be a charmer, remember?”

Genji smiled, but it was a tentative one. “It’s different than when I lived in the palace,” he explained, “you’re not like the girls in the capital—“ he stopped himself, realizing there were many ways to take that, “not because you aren’t noble! I mean…maybe it _is_ because you aren’t noble, but it’s…a good thing.”

“It’s alright, Genji,” she said, stopping him before he could trip over his words any further, “I…like you a lot too.” Genji grinned, leaning closer, only to have Angela stop him with a hand on his chest. “But…”

“But?”

“But I don’t know if it’s a good idea to get into anything right now,” she continued, “I know you’ve been trying to hide it, but I’m not blind. You’re still working through something…and it’s tearing you apart inside. It hurts me to see it, and I don’t want it to hurt more because we decided to explore a relationship.” She sighed, taking the hand that wasn’t holding their light source in her own. “I can’t just be a distraction for you,” she murmured, her gaze dropping, “you need to sort yourself out, for your own good.”

Genji’s heart sank, and continued to sink as what felt like an eternity passed between them in silence. At last, he gathered himself to speak: “then why did you…bring me out here? Why would you tease me? Do all this just to reject me?”

Angela bit her lip after letting him yank his hand away in a huff. “It’s not like that,” she replied quickly, “I really do like you; I just want you to be able to focus, to figure out what it is that’s causing you such strife so we can be happy, whole and at peace. I didn’t want to say all of this in front of Zenyatta.”

“We _could’ve_ been happy,” Genji spat before storming away into the forest, hoping she wouldn’t follow him. He’d never felt so angry toward her…and yet he knew his anger wasn’t justified. He’d known all along she didn’t like his plan for the future; he should’ve seen it coming. Perhaps he was madder at himself than anything else. She said she wanted him to sort out his conflict. If he’d only decided what to do with Hanzo she wouldn’t have rejected him. He should’ve meditated with Zenyatta when he had the chance.

\---

Hanzo waited in the bushes while his companions went ahead to scout out the area around the Western Air Temple. After waiting for a few minutes, he crept forward slowly, carefully, to peer at the canyon ahead. It wasn’t nearly as wide or as long as the Great Divide, but the buildings carved out of the cliff on the other side were a sight to behold. Peering through the mist he could barely make out the movements of several white, fluffy creatures hovering around the temple, the moonlight shining off their ivory hides. Air bison. It’d been a long time since he last saw one, but he remembered being afraid of them as a child, though he’d learned shortly after how gentle they were.

He crept away from the edge of the cliff and back into the foliage where he had some cover. It was night, alright, but the moon was full and high in the sky, illuminating the area more than usual. He couldn’t afford to take any chances.

He sucked in a tense breath when something caught his eye, the light of the moon reflecting off something made of either polished metal or glass in the distance. It was halfway around the canyon and not moving, which made him suspicious. His companions would have no reason to lie in wait, which suggested it was someone on the hunt. Tired of being hunted, he decided it was time to become the hunter once again. Stringing his bow, he kept an arrow in his hand while creeping onward, toward the glinting light.

He was starting to get close when the glint disappeared, leaving him to search the darkened woods without a guide, but by then he spotted movement. Whoever he was hunting was moving away from him, to his relief. If his instincts were right, the person had yet to notice him. Following the mystery person, he saw them stop again and crouch in the bushes. Quietly drawing his bow, he emerged into the open.

“Who are you?” he demanded authoritatively.

The person he’d been hunting turned out to be a woman dressed in a long mahogany tunic over fitted dark brown pants, her long dark hair tied up in a high ponytail. He was pleased to see she’d been taken by surprise, though she made no move to evade or attack while looking back at him over her shoulder.

“You aren’t the one I expected to find,” she mused, her voice smooth and chillingly calm. She stood slowly, careful not to earn an arrow in the chest. “If you forget you saw me, I will forget I saw you.”

“Explain yourself,” Hanzo hissed menacingly, “I am not in the mood for games.”

“ _Un homme p_ _é_ _tulant_ ,” the woman hummed, smiling amusedly. He recognized the language, a traditional tongue from one very small island of the Fire Nation’s archipelago, and it explained the accent. He tried not to assume she was an enemy from that alone, holding out at least some hope for his countrymen’s loyalty. “I am a bounty hunter and you are not my target,” she went on, “will you not go on your way? You will cost me my quarry, and tempt me to claim the reward for your capture instead… _Fire Lord Hanzo_.”

“What?” Hanzo hissed, shocked that anyone aside from Akande and his witch would know exactly who the traitors had been hunting. Most had been told he was a dangerous criminal, not that they were chasing after the Fire Nation’s rightful ruler.

“I do not have time for this, _Ch_ _é_ _ri_ ,” the woman cooed calmly, “ _au revoir_.” Hanzo loosed his arrow after the woman tossed something to the ground and a cloud of smoke erupted around them. By the sound of it, he hadn’t managed to hit her through the cloud. Coughing, the archer was forced to back up while the smoke he’d inhaled burned his throat and nostrils. He stumbled backward to the ground and scrambled away, wheezing while he tried to get just one breath of clean air. Having caught his breath after several seconds of being in the open air, he looked back to watch the smoke dissipate, revealing the bounty hunter had escaped. He’d paid the price for his hesitation…but he hoped, at least, she’d told the truth about not intending to hunt him. Yet, anyway.

He got back on his feet, just in time to hear someone hail him from behind, a male voice this time. He turned around to see man clothed in several layers of Earth Kingdom garb, his face hidden behind a dark green scarf that was wrapped securely over any discernible features. The man watched him for a few seconds in silence, just as he watched him. He seemed…in disbelief, clearly drawn to his location by the outburst of smoke alone.

“Hanzo!” the man shouted suddenly, rushing toward him at full sprint. Another who recognized him, and one brazen enough to call him by his first name while omitting his title. Clearly, the Western Air Temple wasn’t as safe as Morrison and Reyes had hoped it would be. He drew his bow and fired in one fluid motion, only to have the arrow knocked aside by a sword the man whipped out in an instant. It hadn’t even slowed him down. He fired again, with the same result, then once more. The third arrow ricocheted off the carefully positioned blade and shot back toward him, forcing him to duck and break his line of sight.

He looked up again to see the man jump up and kick down, a burst of flame erupting as his heel made contact with the ground. A firebender!? Grunting as he barely managed to leap aside in time to avoid it, he stumbled back to his feet and took off running. If he’d managed to take him by surprise, he would’ve had a chance at winning the altercation…but without his bending, he knew he didn’t stand a chance in an all-out fight.

“Face me, coward!”

Hanzo stopped, his foot sliding in the dirt while he pivoted to face his attacker, indignation apparent on his face. “What do you want?” he demanded, reluctant to back down, “I have no quarrel with you!”

“I want satisfaction,” the firebender declared, “I wasn’t prepared to get it so soon…but I _will_ have it! An Agni Kai. Now!”

Hanzo froze, dread filling him. Honor dictated he couldn’t refuse, but a non bender couldn’t engage in an Agni Kai. Admitting he’d lost his ability to bend to an unknown threat would be a risk he couldn’t afford…but so was accepting a duel he had no chance of winning. “For what purpose?” he asked at last, “as I said, I have no quarrel with you. And we have no witnesses.”

“A man of true honor does not need witnesses to exercise that honor,” the man replied grimly, “and as _I_ said, I demand satisfaction. _That_ is my purpose. Do you plan to refuse my challenge, coward?”

Hanzo stood motionless and quiet, going back and forth between his two options. He could refuse and walk away with his safety, but without his honor…or he could accept the defeat. The rules of an Agni Kai dictated the victor could not purposely kill his defeated foe, but accidents could always happen. Without one of those accidents, a single burn was all it would take and whatever reason this mystery man had to challenge him would be settled. One burn for the sake of his honor…but how much honor did he have left after his many mistakes? What was he really saving by exposing himself to danger? And yet…that meant he didn’t have a strong enough sense of personal honor to spare should he sacrifice it again. He needed that honor, for his own reasons. His mental and emotional health; it alone maintained his suffering spirit.

“I,” he began hesitantly, the pace of his heartbeat quickening in anticipation, “…accept your challenge, stranger.” The firebender sheathed his sword, his expression indiscernible behind the scarf, and took a firebending stance he knew too well: one that rivaled his own. Whoever his challenger was, he’d been trained in the capital by some of the finest instructors, that much was certain. Perhaps he really did know who he was, but he could think of no one who might still carry a grudge against him, at least no one who wasn’t allied with Akande. And yet, one of Akande’s men would’ve tried to capture him, not duel him.

Hanzo dodged the man’s first attack effortlessly and knew it was only a warning burst, a signal that the duel had officially begun. He responded instantly by loosing an arrow toward the man’s head, which he deflected away with his bracer, though thankfully not back at him. Free from the worry of dodging his own arrow, he was able to fire again. The firebender simply jumped aside that time, then started to close the distance between them, a ball of flame beginning to form around his fist.

The fire lord began to back away while preparing his next shot, earning himself just enough time to fire before his opponent reached him. The arrow sped past the man’s head, giving him pause. He seemed startled…as if he hadn’t expected him to miss. How well did he know him?

As he’d planned, the arrow glanced off the divot in a tree’s trunk and hurtled back toward his attacker from behind, striking him in the back of his ankle. The man cried out, his voice sounding different somehow…even familiar. Had he been disguising it before?

“The duel is over,” Hanzo declared, still backing away, “I have drawn first blood.”

“That isn’t the rule and you know it,” the man growled. He reached back to yank the arrow free, hissing in pain. He hadn’t gone back to changing his voice, speaking in that familiar tone he’d only just noticed. Hanzo struggled to figure out who he sounded like, searching his memory for anything that might give him away. “An Agni Kai is settled upon the first _burn_ ,” the firebender concluded, “and that means you’ll need to stop playing games. Drop the bow if you want to preserve your honor. Fight!”

“Very well,” Hanzo growled back. The challenger was right, of course, but he’d hoped the pain of the arrow would allow them to bend the rules this one time, given there were no witnesses to force them to adhere to them strictly. There would be no burn to secure his own victory, that much was certain, but he couldn’t simply allow him to win.

The firebender whipped his arms around, sending a thin stream of fire in his direction, a technique that looked more like waterbending to him. Hanzo ducked, but soon realized the stream wasn’t meant for him when the string of his bow snapped, the tension releasing violently as the string whipped his forehead hard enough to cut his skin. He winced and stumbled backward a step, but steadied himself. Setting his ruined bow aside, he took his firebending stance, though he knew nothing would happen if he tried his usual techniques. Perhaps if he could subdue him unarmed, weaken him to the point of exhaustion, the duel could be ended in his favor.

The attacker jabbed forward, throwing a fireball in his direction. Hanzo dodged and, contrary to his normal strategy, dashed toward him to punch him in the gut, actually managing to make contact. Clearly, the firebender knew him too well to expect an attack he’d borrowed from his brother. His challenger recoiled, surprised, but recovered quick enough to jab at him again. Hanzo thrust his forearm up to knock the other man’s away from him, causing the blast to fly askew. Clearly enraged, the firebender tried to burn him again, then again, but life without his bending had forced Hanzo to brush up on his hand-to-hand skills, allowing him to either dodge or deflect each fire burst he threw at him.

Going on the offensive at last, the fire lord reached forth to grab his opponent’s wrist and prepared to toss him to the ground, but it seemed he was expecting it that time. The firebender slapped his hand over Hanzo’s and it felt as if his fist had been buried in a pile of hot coals. He cried out and released his wrist to back off, but the firebender didn’t let him, maintaining a firm grip as the burning sensation increased in intensity.

“Enough!” Hanzo cried desperately.

 At first, he thought the victor wouldn’t listen, choosing instead to cause him as much pain as he could…but at last he let go. Expressing a mixture of pain and relief with a scream, Hanzo fell back and down to one knee. He clenched his teeth to keep from expression his weakness again, hiding his injured hand in the folds of his tunic.

“Victory is yours,” he managed to squeak out, lowering his gaze. Losing an Agni Kai in itself was no dishonor…and whatever grudge the firebender had against him will have been settled by its conclusion, but the challenger remained in his position standing over him, his stance still sharp and poised for action. “A man of true honor has no need of witnesses…” he reminded him of his own words, looking up at the narrowed eyes peering down at him from an opening between the folds of the scarf. Even in the dark, he realized he knew them…but not from where. “Will you taint your honorable victory to kill me?” he asked in a growl.

“I wanted to kill you,” the man replied quietly. Hanzo gripped a handful of grass, his muscles tensing in preparation for the final blow. There was no one to stop him, and he had no guarantee he was a “man of true honor”. After a short pause, he went on, “I wanted you to fight me until I was forced to kill you…but instead you gave me an easy victory!”

Wincing, Hanzo groaned, wishing he had cold water at hand to soothe the burn. “Your victory was earned,” he assured him, “I fought to the best of my ability.”

“Don’t lie to me!” the firebender cried, swinging his arms back to unleash two simultaneous bursts of flame in his anger, “you wouldn’t bring forth a single spark to fight me! Why!? Were you determined to deprive me of a fair duel!?”

Narrowing his eyes in curiosity and anger, the fire lord peered up at him again. “Who are you?” he demanded.

“Who are _you_?” the man spat back, “because you are not the brother I remember!”

Hanzo squinted again, this time in confusion. He could not have heard that word correctly. “Brother…?”

The firebender reached up to yank his scarf off, tossing it aside to reveal the entirety of his head. The face…was one he thought he’d only see in his nightmares. It wasn’t the grisly scars covering half of his face and neck that repulsed him. It was the fact that he knew it belonged to someone long dead, someone he’d unjustly murdered.

“G…Genji!?”


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Genji stared down at his brother, humbled and on his knee at his feet. Even then, in all his anger at being taunted and played with during the duel that should have given him the opportunity to prove his skill to himself, he didn’t know if he had it in him to take his life. Why? WHY!? He had the right! Justice in the Fire Nation could be so simple at times…so why was his own heart making it so complicated?

Thoroughly frustrated near the brink of his own self control, he grabbed the shoulder of Hanzo’s tunic and dragged him to his feet, swiping his sword free of its sheath with the other hand. He held the blade up, the tip of it pressing against the skin of his brother’s neck. All he had to do was press a little and the deed would be done. The conflict in him would be over…but he still hesitated.

“I should kill you for your crime,” he hissed, trying to convince himself more than anyone else that he needed to do what he’d set out to do, “it’s just!”

Hanzo’s eyes were wide in disbelief, and Genji knew he still wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. Perhaps his reemergence after nearly two months of being dead was too much to handle. “You…are not real,” he breathed quietly, “you cannot be real!”

Genji sneered and flicked the sword upward to slice his cheek, causing him to wince in pain. “Was that real?” he growled, letting go of his tunic. Maybe he would run if he gave him the chance; if he ran it would be an act of guilt. Maybe that would be enough to push him into action.

“Genji…” Hanzo whispered, shaking his head slowly. The prince wondered if he thought that would somehow make him disappear so he could go back to whatever it was he planned to do in the temple, guilt-free and rid of his problematic little brother. “Why are you here?” he continued, at last.

Genji growled under his breath and whipped at him with his sword, though slowly enough he knew Hanzo could dodge it, which he did. “Here as opposed to the underworld!?” he demanded, “the real question is ‘why are _you_ here’! Did you abandon the people you cared so much about that killing me somehow served them?”

He hadn’t been expecting Hanzo to admit his shame, or to seem at all sorrowful for his crime, but the _offended_ look that came to his face in response to his accusation wasn’t what he’d been expecting either. The fire lord sneered and smacked his brother’s blade away with his leather bracer. “You know nothing, Genji,” he declared in a harsh whisper, “there are more important things than what happened between you and me!”

The prince let out a cry of anger at being challenged in his divinely-given right to avenge himself and sent a blast of flame at him point-blank. Hanzo yelped involuntarily, but managed to move aside just as Genji realized he’d deliberately fired askew. Again, he was getting in his own way, even in the face of his justified fury!

It was clear by Hanzo’s reaction that he didn’t know he’d missed deliberately. The fire lord whipped an Earth Kingdom-style dagger out from under his outermost layer of clothing and spun away to put a little distance between them in anticipation of Genji’s next move. “You don’t understand,” he cried, “I need your help; the Fire Nation requires it!”

“My _help!?_ ” Genji shrieked in indignation, keeping up the ruse by shooting another blast toward his brother with a fierce kick, another lazy attack he easily dodged, “how dare you ask for anything from me!?” Just saying it out loud stoked the fire in him again, though a small part of him was warning that the situation was just a little too familiar, calling forth memories of his vision in the swamp. He ignored that part, and the lingering image of his inner dragon asking him to set the conflict aside.

Steeling his nerves, the prince leapt back, further away from his brother than he thought he could reach, and began to summon flames in a furious wreath that surrounded him. It would be a divine kind of justice, one Hanzo could see coming before it could destroy him the way it’d almost destroyed his own body. As he’d hoped, the fire lord was wide-eyed in shock and, perhaps, a little bit of fear.

“Genji, don’t!” he cried, “I can’t fireb—“

The dragon of flame was loose before his brother could finish whatever sad defense he was trying to sway him with. The Shimadas’ spirit dragon technique rushed toward him unstoppably, and only Hanzo’s own conjured dragon would be enough to deflect it. The fire lord had been holding back that far, but he didn’t have a choice anymore.

To Genji’s surprise, Hanzo made no move to even attempt summoning his dragon in time to stop him, choosing instead to fling his arms up and shield his face in futility. A brief sting of panic overtook the prince and he found himself commanding his dragon to change its course. The serpent of fire rushed past Hanzo just close enough to singe the fabric of his left sleeve, setting the garment aflame while leaving him otherwise untouched.

The fire lord let out a strained groan when the dragon’s momentum through the air tossed his clothes and hair violently about him while it flew by. It wasn’t until its entire length had passed in a rough rush of wind that Genji managed to send it away in a blazing swirl. Hanzo sighed out a desperate gasp and collapsed to his knees weakly, working hard to catch his breath while he franticly patted his burning sleeve to extinguish it.

Genji leapt forward in the air and brought his blade down toward the back of Hanzo’s neck, only forcing it to stop when it’d just made contact with his skin. “Why did you hold back?” he growled, “why are you still holding back, refusing to defend yourself? Why must you continue to deprive me of my honorable victory!?” Hissing angrily at himself, he whipped the sword away and tossed into the trunk of a nearby tree, leaving it there while he glared down at his brother. “And why can’t I make you pay for it?” he whispered, his tone softening just a little, “why do I still care?”

Hanzo’s back straightened as he blankly stared ahead, but he remained on his knees. “I will not deprive you of your victory,” he stated while still trying to even out his breathing, though his tone was level, “but I did not hand it to you, either. Kill me if you must.”

As impossible as it sounded, Genji knew when his brother was lying…and this time he wasn’t. He claimed he’d done his best to fight him, and he was telling the truth. He hadn’t used a single thing he’d learned in all his time as a firebender, but somehow he was telling the truth.

It was then he noticed the lines in the flesh of Hanzo’s shoulder and bicep, the skin having been exposed when his sleeve burned. It looked…much like his own arm, chest, face and legs. He’d received a dire burn; he, his brother the fire lord, had lost a battle before. Had he gotten the scars when they were young it might’ve been plausible, but to see a wound he’d never seen before on someone he knew to be one of the fiercest benders in existence? Impossible! “What is wrong with you?” he asked at last, after failing to figure it out on his own.

Hanzo grimaced angrily and looked up through the corners of his eyes while his face remained turned away from him. “Does it truly matter to you?” he hissed.

“Of course it matters,” Genji growled back, “tell me the truth!” He could easily see how reluctant he was to oblige him, but he wasn’t feeling generous enough to back off. He continued to stare down at him critically, both fists clenched tightly at his sides while he waited for the response he would force him to give if necessary.

“It is too quiet.”

That wasn’t the response he wanted, but with a little listening he verified it was so. He could hear creatures in the distance, the usual wilderness night sounds, but it was quiet around them. Their time hounding game near the capital taught them both how strange that was. Animals had a sense for when a hunter was among them.

\---

Hanzo hopped back to his feet when he saw Genji whip around and knock something out of the air with his bending. He spared a second to glance down at the object’s remains, identifying it as either a small arrow or a long dart, and it didn’t appear to belong to an   
Earth Kingdom armory. Eyeing the sword his brother had embedded in the trunk of a tree not too far away, he sprang toward it while hoping Genji wouldn’t see it as an act of aggression toward him and attack again. He had to know where their priorities were, and the outside threat was far more pressing than any Hanzo posed alone.

He outstretched his arm toward the hilt of the sword, but saw something large leap toward him before he could identify it and tried to slide himself to a stop before whatever it was could land right on top of him. A four-legged creature with black markings on its brown fur emerged from the foliage in front of Hanzo and landed nimbly right beside him, knocking him back on his rear. He pulled his dagger out to defend himself, but the animal ignored him, choosing instead to flick its long pink tongue out toward his brother. A shirshu, just as he’d seen at a traveling circus a few years prior.

“Genji!” he cried in warning, aware the prince had chosen to focus on whoever fired upon them, his back turned on the new threat. Genji heard him in time to twist his body away from the whipping tongue, then kicked another projectile out of the air behind him. Unwilling to let some stranger and their pet take his brother away so soon after he’d returned from the dead, Hanzo dashed toward the shirshu and swiped at it with the dagger. The creature growled while reeling back to avoid his attack, then swung its tail around to knock him down again.

Hanzo rolled over his shoulder to avoid winding up on his back, but it caused him to be too far away from the creature to slash at its tongue when it shot it out a second time. Genji grunted when it snapped him in the ankle, then collapsed chest-first in the dirt with a groan. Hanzo growled when he saw the woman he’d confronted before emerge into the clearing and advance to stand triumphantly over his brother.

“Leave this place,” the fire lord ordered, flipping the dagger to hold it in prime stabbing position, the blade on the opposite side of his hand from his thumb, “and, perhaps, I will pardon you for attacking a member of the royal family.”

“The reach of your power has its limits,” the hunter replied, “and out here it means little, especially with the price our mutual acquaintance has placed on your head.” She looked toward the shirshu. “Take him, Gérard.”

Hanzo pivoted to face the animal. “You said I was not your target,” he reminded her, attempting to keep his voice calm despite the danger. She wasn’t even loading another bolt in the crossbow she carried, and that spoke volumes. He had no doubt she’d been watching them, and knew his bending would not be an issue.

“You aren’t,” she chimed, “but I’m sure you will be my next when my employer sees the result of my work. Will you blame me for saving myself the time and effort of finding you again?”

The shirshu snarled and whipped around to face him, lashing its tongue out at his head. Hanzo ducked easily, but was unsure what to do next, torn between running to save himself and keeping Genji safe. It was a short internal dispute. Deciding on a course of action, Hanzo waited for the animal to whip at him again, then swung his dagger up to meet the tongue, slicing part of its length clean off.

“ _Merde!_ ” he heard the woman curse while the shirshu slinked backward, howling in pain. Hanzo spun about to sprint toward her, wishing his brother hadn’t broken his bowstring while the hunter prepared one of her dart-like bolts. The fire lord dodged the first shot with a quick twirl, then resumed closing the distance between them. The hunter quickly loaded up another, but not quick enough to fire before Hanzo reached her. She rolled away when he sliced at her, but didn’t have time to recover before he was upon her again.

Kept on her toes by the swipes of Hanzo’s dagger, the bounty hunter was unable to get off a shot with any sort of accuracy, but she was also proving to be too evasive to strike. Had Genji been in any shape to fight, he might have been quick enough for the job, but Hanzo was only able to _try_ being as agile as he was, and he wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to keep it up. If something didn’t change, it would be a contest of endurance more than anything else, and he didn’t know enough about the hunter to be sure he would win it.

Clearly, the woman wasn’t willing to wait that long. She pulled something from her vest, only holding it long enough for Hanzo to identify it was some sort of pellet, before tossing it down. A cloud of smoke emerged around them and he knew enough from the last time to keep his mouth shut and hold his breath. He swiped at her through the smoke, but was met with only empty air.

He heard a growl and tried to judge which direction the shirshu was in, but was unable to figure it out before the animal pounced on him, holding him to the ground with a muscular front leg. The knife he held was knocked from his grasp and landed a short distance away, though the distance was too great to overcome with the monster’s weight on his ribcage. The breath forced from his lungs, he had no choice but to inhale and was immediately rewarded with a burning sensation in his throat and chest. He coughed violently and struggled to free himself by pushing the paw off, though his strength suffered from the effects of the smoke.

Hanzo managed to get a brief moment of clarity through intense focus and kicked upward, into the creature’s armpit. It groaned angrily, but was hurt enough to lessen the pressure on the fire lord’s chest. He rolled out from under it and righted himself to listen for the woman’s footsteps while the cloud began to dissipate. He crouched low to grab his dagger, only to meet the hunter’s foot with his chin. He grunted at being flung onto his back, then she was atop him. She rammed her fist down and jabbed him hard in the shoulder with something sharp. Wincing, he looked to see it was one of her darts. Soon after, he realized he couldn’t move.

“You two are troublesome,” she growled, rising to stand above him, “the price is almost not worth it.” She stepped over him and went to the creature to stroke its fur tenderly, putting her forehead against its long snout. “ _Je suis d_ _é_ _sol_ _é_ _e, mon chou_.”

Twitching angrily, Hanzo peered out of the corners of his eyes at Genji’s unmoving form. His head so happened to be turned in his brother’s direction, and when their gazes met the fire lord could see the understandable fury in his eyes. There was nothing Hanzo could think to say to excuse what he’d done, or to even begin apologizing for it…but he would need to convince him to work with him if they were to escape.

\---

It was nearing daybreak by the time Jack caught his first sign of where the fire lord might have wandered off. He’d had difficulty keeping his frustration from showing on his countenance when he discovered Hanzo was missing, and while organizing the others for a search party. He’d asked him to stay put, though he would’ve preferred to order it. Although there was no sign of danger at the Air Temple, and only one other group of travelers staying nearby, it was not as if the fire lord had any way of knowing it was safe. He shouldn’t have left the rendezvous point, as they’d agreed!

The evidence he’d found was a dagger he recognized as one crafted by Gabe, one Hanzo wouldn’t have dropped if he’d had a choice in it. Looking around the clearing, he noticed the signs of a fight: kicked up tufts of grass, a few broken arrow-like projectiles, and…an entire Fire Nation sword embedded in the trunk of a tree, for some reason. Try as he might, he couldn’t figure out exactly what happened, but the sword and the lost dagger were enough to suggest Hanzo had been taken by one of their enemies. Why was he so far from where they’d left him!?

Placing both the dagger and the sword under his belt, he turned to the east and waved his torch while calling to Jesse, who shouldn’t have been too far away if he’d adhered to the plan. He wasn’t sure what he would do if he hadn’t; fire lord or not, those damn kids were starting to drive him crazy.

\---

Genji and Hanzo remained silent while they traveled in captivity, neither willing to speak to the huntress. Speaking was about the only thing either of them could do. Genji was glad, at least, that the shirshu’s venom had rendered their bodies numb as well; the two of them tied to either side of her saddle, he had no doubt they’d be in some pain if they could feel the ropes digging into them. He wasn’t looking forward to getting that feeling back, as much as he wished he could move.

Their captor kept them paralyzed for the duration of their trip by occasionally pricking them with an envenomed needle. He’d heard Hanzo threaten to tear off her thumb with his teeth the first time, but it seemed after hours of being helpless that feistiness died out into the prevalent silence. Lacroix didn’t speak much, either, and Genji would have guessed she hadn’t gotten much sleep while hunting him across the continent. Fatigue tended to steal one’s tongue.

The huntress put considerable distance between them and the Air Temple, traveling nearly at full speed for the remainder of the night, before finally stopping. She took the two of them down, then tied them together, back-to-back, in a seated position against a lone tree. Her prizes fully subdued, she took the saddle off her wounded mount and went with it to rest nearby. At last, he and his brother were somewhat alone. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say at first, with so many statements and questions running through his head.

Hanzo spoke up in a low whisper before he could decide: “were you aware you were being hunted, Genji?”

Genji grunted an affirmative, too frustrated to admit to it vocally. His brother didn’t reply, then one of his many possible conversation-starting ideas came to the forefront. “When she first revealed herself to me I thought you had sent her to finish what you started,” he murmured, “it seems I assumed wrong.”

“You were dead,” Hanzo mumbled back, “but be assured that if I’d had reason to hunt you I would have done it personally.”

Genji scoffed and looked as far backward as he could manage without the ability to turn his head. “How _noble_ of you, Brother,” he growled, “I’m truly honored.”

He heard Hanzo sigh in a way he’d never heard him sigh before; instead of the usual mocking sarcasm he was inexplicably capable of conveying through the simple action of exhaling, he actually sounded sad. “I meant to say…I am relieved you are not among the dead.”

“ _Relieved_?” the prince hissed incredulously, “is that all?”

He felt his brother inhale as if to speak, though no words followed. It was strange to see him at a loss for words, if that was truly the problem. He’d always had a reply for him in the past, either a dismissive comment or a thought-out zinger to put him in his place. Was it possible his brother had changed in their time apart? He wasn’t sure what to think of it, or whether he liked the idea of a different Hanzo.

“How did you survive?” the fire lord asked at last, “how did I not hear of it, and why did you not return?”

Genji growled to himself, rolling his eyes. “Does it truly matter to you?” he parroted, repeating the way Hanzo had replied to his own question with not too long ago. He wasn’t about to be the first person spilling his secrets. Hanzo owed him at least that much.

Again, he heard him sigh and thought the conversation was simply going to end there with mutual silence. At last, he said something entirely unexpected: “I cannot firebend.”

The only part of his body that could feel and move, his fingers, squirmed uncomfortably. It would certainly explain their unorthodox Agni Kai, and his brother’s refusal to defend himself with their family’s technique. If he was telling the truth, he hadn’t been meaning to dishonor him by handing him an easy victory, just as he’d claimed before. But how was it even possible? “What?” he asked hesitantly.

“It’s the least of my—our worries,” Hanzo continued, “I have no doubt this woman is in the employ of Master Akande, who staged a coup and has taken control of the palace with the majority of the royal guard at his command. I was forced to flee and, to answer your question before, _that_ is what I’m doing out here. Are you happy, now?”

Genji was most certainly _not_ happy. As much as he hated living in the palace, it was his home and an invasion of the royal family’s base of operations didn’t bode well for the Fire Nation, _his_ nation. “How could you let this happen!?” he cried, “you’re supposed to be the fire lord!”

Lacroix paused while tending to her shirshu’s injury to look over at them critically. “Settle down,” she ordered, “or I will need to silence you.”

Genji told himself to talk quieter, trying to calm his anxious nerves. “Well!?” he demanded in a hoarse whisper.

“One of his allies is a witch, a waterbender who claimed to bloodbend,” Hanzo explained quietly, managing to sound at least a little rehearsed, as if he’d told the same story numerous times to many different ears. That didn’t seem wise. “I do not know how she did it, but she was able to rid me of my bending. Were it otherwise, I would have turned them both to burnt jerky.”

Genji remembered hearing the term “bloodbender” only once before, from Master Ana. He’d had yet to get an explanation from her. “What is bloodbending?” he wondered aloud.

“I’d imagine it is how it sounds,” the fire lord replied, a hint of his familiar mocking tone finally showing itself, “but what it is doesn’t matter. Regardless, I will not be able to reclaim the throne without my firebending. That is why I need your help, Genji.”

Genji tried not to raise his voice again, instead directing his frustration into his hands, where fists formed. “How stupidly brave of you to ask the help of someone you tried to kill,” he growled, “did you not see what your actions did to my face? My entire body is permanently marked, and they will not let me simply forget.”

“Then do not think of it as helping me,” Hanzo whispered back, stubbornly, “it’s our people who truly need your help. The Fire Nation deserves a ruler capable of defending her, and now that means you. I will abdicate my throne upon our return and go into exile for the rest of my days if it will only buy your assistance in defeating Master Akande.”

“And if I say my price is your head?”

Again, Hanzo hesitated. Genji wasn’t even sure himself that he wanted his brother’s head anymore, but his answer would tell him just how genuine he was. He’d never known Hanzo to outright lie, but some expression of his conviction would settle his worries quicker. Regardless, he knew he couldn’t abandon the people of the Fire Nation. He would help…but he didn’t need to be happy about it.

“If that is your price, you may take it in the event of our victory,” Hanzo replied at last, his voice coming out strained and reluctant. He heard him grunt, and his tone strengthened with conviction when he continued, “but I will not give it you on a velvet pillow. When I say ‘take it’, understand you will need to earn it in combat.”

Genji huffed a short chuckle out through his nose. “None of that matters right now, anyway,” he said, “not while we’re being held prisoner.”

“Yes,” Hanzo agreed. He felt movement, and guessed part of him was starting to regain its feeling as well. “Can you reach the pouch on my belt?”

Genji felt around behind him, mindfully aware of what he was touching to avoid uncomfortably caressing his brother’s backside. “Why?”

“It should be easy enough to open,” Hanzo explained in a particularly quiet tone, “inside there is an arrowhead, a metal one crafted by a friend of mine. I do not know if it is sharp enough to cut our bonds, but it would not be easily missed by my allies. If we cannot free ourselves, we must at least try to leave a trail.”

“You’re certain your allies would follow you out this far?”

He heard Hanzo snort a laugh. “I’m the fire lord,” he reminded him flatly, “and if that wasn’t enough to be sure, Guard Commander Morrison is with them.”

Genji winced, remembering his brief fight with Morrison and almost dying a second time so soon after the first. It was the first time the commander’s reputation was proven to him, and that reputation didn’t just include his skill in battle. He had a dogged determination, and a limitless drive to fulfill his duty. If there was anyone in existence who would follow Hanzo from one end of the world to the other, it was Morrison. “Leaving a trail it is, then.”


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! New apartment, lots of busy busy busy. There are still a few chapters to go, but I can safely say we're past the halfway point by more than a few chapters. I have a lot of ideas, and cutting some of them out is...difficult ha. Maybe I'll have a sequel, or a prequel. We'll see.

Jesse and his father led the way while they tracked the unusual footprints of the creature they were following. He was certain he would’ve recognized the animal’s tracks if it didn’t appear to be in such a hurry, smearing them as it galloped full speed away from the temple. At that speed, he doubted they’d have had a chance at catching it on foot, but thanks to Jack’s quick thinking before the Great Divide they had their ostrich horses. Tired from their journey as they were, they’d been trained by the military to shrug off fatigue as long as an Earth Kingdom soldier could…which was a long time.

Gabe and Jack’s old friend at the temple, a waterbender named Ana, had joined them in the search while Reinhardt stayed behind, admitting his weight would slow them down. Ana rode Reinhardt’s sturdy ostrich horse in his stead, right by Jack’s side. Oddly enough, she wasn’t the only ally they’d picked up at the temple.

 Although Jesse was the only who’d recognized Angela, Zenyatta, and their enormous air bison mount, the others had been gracious enough to take him at his word when he said they were good people, and Ana’s vouching for them didn’t hurt. Apparently, Genji had gone off into the wilderness and hadn’t returned…and he was Hanzo’s brother. He’d known when they met there was something off about him, as if he was putting on an act to hide something, but he’d never suspected it was a royal family. They’d taken the risk of assuming both brothers had been stolen away by the same person, and it’d been almost completely confirmed when Jack found Genji’s sword at the sight of the fight that’d also deprived Hanzo of his dagger and bow. Needless to say, his friends agreed to help in the search, acting as their eye in the sky.

Jesse kept Hanzo’s bow in his ostrich’s saddle pouch, intent on replacing the snapped string and returning it to him at his first opportunity. He didn’t want to narrow his mind by making any assumptions, but he was almost certain that Lacroix had shown her face again, his warning outside Omashu not enough to deter her. Learning who Genji really was explained why the huntress would’ve been hounding their group…and they’d unwittingly brought the escaped fire lord right to her by meeting up with them. Everyone around Omashu knew Lacroix was no fool, and she wouldn’t let the opportunity of collecting two large bounties slip through her fingers.

The search party was forced to stop when the trail disappeared, very clearly masked in a mess of disturbed dirt; the whole area had been disturbed to throw them off. Jack looked up and waved the air bison down. Iris landed carefully to avoid ruining what little signs of their quarry remained.

“The tracks ended down here,” the commander explained upon approaching Zenyatta, “were you able to see anything from above?”

The monk frowned, looking out toward where the tracks should have led. “We will need to fly much lower if we want to relocate the trail,” he said, “but I am reluctant to expose Iris to the danger of an attack from below; it will be hard for either of us to see it coming.”

Jack grunted, but didn’t argue. Jesse restrained his own protests; he didn’t have the right to scold Zenyatta for being careful just to express his frustration at losing Hanzo. If his suspicions were right, they all needed to be careful lest they wind up paralyzed in the wilderness.

“We should split up,” Gabe suggested, “worked out well enough last time, didn’t it?”

“Right,” Jack agreed. He looked back at the monk. “One of us can follow just below you to watch your underside, if that will help; we can’t afford to let them get too far away while we’re looking around here.”

Zenyatta leaned forward to pet Iris’ wooly head. “If it is a risk Iris is willing to take. I am unsure how she feels toward our missing prince.”

Again, Jesse kept himself from saying anything. He didn’t see why an animal got first pick in how they’d proceed, but then the creature huffed out a low growl as if she’d understood Zenyatta. He felt his spirits rise when she nodded slowly.

“Then it is agreed,” the monk hummed happily, stroking the bison’s fur, “thank you, Iris.”

“I will go with Gabriel and Jesse,” Ana proposed.

“No,” Jesse interjected quickly, immediately wishing he hadn’t sounded so panicked, “I mean, we should have three groups searchin’, at least. I’ll be fine alone.” He hopped off his mount’s saddle and curled the toes of one foot in the dirt. “No one can sneak up on me while I got the earth ‘neath my feet,” he explained.

Gabe’s narrowing his eyes at him didn’t escape his notice. His father knew his reasons for wanting to search alone, but thankfully didn’t say anything to stop the others from agreeing to the idea. Not wanting to waste anymore time, Jack didn’t argue either, though Jesse could see he wasn’t as confident in Jesse’s abilities as he was. The commander might not have had any kids of his own, but he managed to have that same critically judgmental kind of caring in him that Gabe had. If he didn’t already know nothing was going to come of them, he would’ve started getting accustomed to life with two dads.

“I’ll go with you, Jesse,” Angela declared, jumping off Iris’s back, “none of us should be alone, and Zenyatta can help Iris search from above.” Jesse pursed his lips in frustration, but knew his father was glaring at him from his saddle. It wouldn’t be so bad, he figured. He knew Genji _really_ liked Angela, and he was fairly certain she felt the same about him. Maybe she’d agree with his decision when they found Lacroix.

“Alright, you get the horse, darlin’,” he said, tossing the reins to her, “now, let’s git a move on.”

Once the others were gone and Angela had mounted up, he knelt down and placed his palm in the dirt to sense for the footprints that should have only recently been covered over with dust, small pockets of hardened dirt beneath the looser top layer. That was a skill he’d always kept to himself, just so he could use it one day and catch Gabe unawares…but now it served a different purpose. He and Angela were sure to find the huntress first, and he could deal out the punishment she deserved for continuing to hound his new friends, and for stealing away his sweetpea—of course, he could only call him that if it was a joke.

He located the trail, faintly, and pointed onward. Running alongside the trotting ostrich horse that bore Angela, he used each footstep to make sure he was still following the hidden tracks, the vibrations of each impact allowing him to detect them even clearer, as if they were still visible on the surface. He stopped abruptly when he sensed something different from the usual dirt. It was a concentration of metal, either a lump of raw iron or something small like a buckle. He stretched his arm out toward it and called it, catching it in his hand after it flew in his direction. He could feel what it was before he needed to look at it, but presented it to Angela nonetheless.

“We’re on the right track,” he said, holding the arrowhead aloft.

“What is it?” the waterbender asked.

“Somethin’ I made Genji’s brother, not too long back,” he replied bitterly, “my guess is he dropped it on purpose…knew I’d find it.” He knew where Hanzo had been keeping it like some irreplaceable treasure, a bit of sentimentalism he didn’t expect to see in him. He knew it couldn’t have escaped that pouch purely by accident. Just thinking about the fire lord leaving a trail specifically for him to follow, relying on him to find and save him, filled his heart with warmth and determination. He folded his fingers over the arrowhead and clenched it tight enough to give himself a sharp sting, just to remind himself he couldn’t have what he really wanted.

Angela nodded once, biting her lip gently before continuing, “do you…know Hanzo well?”

“Pretty well,” Jesse grunted back, starting to walk onward again while sensing for the new trail, “I mean, it ain’t like we’re married’r anythin’, but we been travelin’ together for almost a month now.”

“I’m worried,” the girl went on, clearly choosing her words carefully, “at least…worried about what Genji might have done when they came across each other. He’s very angry at him.”

“He’s angry at Hanzo?” Jesse repeated, cocking an eyebrow at her, “why? He ain’t the friendliest of fire lords, but I’d suspect, as his brother, Genji’s used to that by now.”

“He…didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

Angela grimaced and shrugged while looking away. “N-nevermind. It’s none of my business, anyway.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I’m just worried that not all of that fight was with the person who took them. I think it very likely Genji might have attacked him.”

“What’re you sayin’?”

“I just want you to be prepared for what we may see when we find them,” Angela explained at last, no longer averting her gaze, “you may be good friends with Hanzo, but…I don’t want you to hate Genji for what he might’ve done. He considers you a friend.”

Despite the growing well of worry in his stomach, Jesse forced himself to snort a laugh. “Look, my Han ain’t some kinda pushover. If anythin’, I’d be worried he gave Genji a good ass beatin’ before things went south.”

“ _Your ‘Han’_?”

Jesse almost cursed out loud at himself, but chose to grunt uncomfortably instead. “Yeah, my good friend Han,” he added quickly, shrugging it off in a literal sense, “he knows I call him Han. Doesn’t mind it, neither, believe it’r not. Don’t know what Genji told you about him but he’s a good guy once you fight past all the posturin’.”

“I see,” Angela mused, her smile doubtful, “then we are both forewarned.”

To his relief, Jesse found the trail again shortly after silence settled between them. “This way,” he announced before running along it again. After the mess of activity that said the area must have been a place Lacroix and her captives had been resting, the tracks were clearer, and obviously very recent, but it wasn’t until he saw them on the surface again that he knew they had to hurry. “We got ‘er now,” he growled, quickly hopping onto the saddle just behind Angela. He urged the ostrich horse into a full gallop and, to his surprise, the waterbender didn’t so much as flinch. He had to remind himself she was accustomed to a flying air bison to keep from being overly impressed.

 “Shouldn’t we go back and signal the others?” Angela asked over the thundering of the animal’s heavy feet.

“Not unless we want to risk losin’ ‘er again,” Jesse declared, “’sides, I think you n’ I can handle Lacroix ourselves if you’ve been trainin’ with Master Ana.”

“Very well, but I reserve the right to say ‘I told you so’ if we end up paralyzed.”

“You bet.”

\---

Hanzo was very careful to keep the slow recovery of the feeling in his limbs a secret while the shirshu continued to take him and his brother farther and farther away from their allies. He’d managed to drop one of his boots during the hard ride several miles back, but leaving an easier trail to follow was impossible. When his recovery finally spread to his biceps and thighs, it became harder not to grunt in pain when the ropes dug into his skin and aggravated the burns on his hand, but he knew the chances of their rescue were getting slimmer the further they traveled and soon it could be solely up to one of them.

It was well past midday when their captor finally stopped on the border of a forest just past a vast plain dotted with clusters of thick foliage, a location that seemed to embody the phrase “in the middle of nowhere”. There was a sizeable hut nestled among a collection of bushes not far from where they ended up and, though it looked like it was in need of some tender loving care, there was a thin stream of smoke climbing from the small mound on the roof that must’ve been its chimney. A building with sparse walls sat adjacent to the hut and the sound of animals inside reacting to their arrival suggested it was some sort of stable.

The bounty hunter dismounted to undo the buckles that kept them attached to the saddle, unceremoniously dumping them in the dirt in the process. He and Genji’s legs were free, then. All they had to do was keep up the ruse, but he was unwilling to say anything to his brother to confirm he was on the same page and could only hope he knew to keep still. Hanzo cautiously peered over his shoulder at the bounty hunter while remaining entirely motionless, his cheek against the ground. When he saw her reach into the pocket that held her envenomed needles, he knew he was unlikely to get another chance.

After waiting until she came closer to pierce him, Hanzo kicked his foot into her ankle hard enough to make her stumble, but she was clearly a creature of grace. Recovering quickly without falling down as he might’ve hoped she would, the woman swung her crossbow strap off her shoulder and whipped it down to strike at him. To his disappointment, he flinched unwillingly, but looked up again when he heard the clack of something intercepting her attack.

Genji went on to twist the crossbow from the huntress’s hands with his feet by turning himself over on the ground with a powerful squirm. Hanzo used the opportunity to swing himself up onto his feet and face her, then leapt into a spinning kick to strike her hard in the temple. That time, it was enough to knock her down. As much as he had to respect her considerable skill and cunning, he couldn’t produce a single pang of guilt in hitting her, and was hardly old fashioned enough to refuse doing it a second time should she get up too quickly.

The shirshu, of course, wouldn’t let him get that chance. As soon as its mistress had fallen, it whipped around and bared its teeth to lunge toward him. Hanzo jumped back when he saw Genji quickly stand out of the corner of his eye and was glad he’d chosen to do it when fire erupted from the ball of his brother’s foot in a large arc, swatting the shirshu away from him. He didn’t know if Genji had protected him out of mere reflex or some other motive, but he chose not to question it too deeply.

His brother spun around to cut the bonds on his own wrists with the traveling arc of flame and readied himself for the creature’s counter attack. The shirshu’s attention on Genji, Hanzo darted to its right before pivoting to charge toward it. Genji kept the animal in place with a whip conjured of flame, just long enough for Hanzo to leap onto its back and seat himself in the saddle.

“Hurry!” he shouted while pressing his knees against the creature’s ribcage in an attempt to gain some sort of control over it, hoping it’d been trained to respond to rein-less prods like the komodo rhinos used by the Fire Nation cavalry.

The shirshu growled confusedly, clearly too intelligent to respond to simple direction from a hostile stranger, though it thankfully didn’t rear back and unseat him. Genji ran forward and avoided the animal’s sharp teeth while passing its head to climb on its back behind his brother. He kept the flaming whip hovering just over his fist and slapped it against the ground in front of the creature to bring it to heel. As much as he would’ve liked to let Genji get better control of the beast before trying to ride it any sort of distance, Hanzo heard the woman get back to her feet and curse behind them.

“Go!” he cried, digging his heels back into the shirshu’s sides. Genji punctuated the order with a crack from his whip and the creature took off, much to their relief.

“Gérard, no!” the woman shouted as they galloped away. The creature responded to her voice by growling and starting to turn around, but Genji stopped it with another harmless flick of his fire weapon. Hanzo glanced back at him, using his feet to stay upright in the saddle and avoid falling into him.

“My hands, Genji,” he reminded him, pulling at the ropes that kept his hands secure behind his back.

“Not yet,” Genji grunted, his attention on the woman while she loaded her crossbow. Hanzo groaned and turned his attention back to the way ahead of them to steer the creature in the direction of the setting sun with prodding from his knees. He didn’t know if they’d headed directly east, and highly doubted it, but riding to encounter the coast would at least help them figure out where they were, he assumed.

Genji used a burst of fire from his fingertips to knock a bolt out of the air before it could hit either of them. With the speed of his reflexes, Hanzo knew his brother could easily release his wrists with his bending, but…he would let him have his small victory if it meant he didn’t need to humble himself enough to ask again.

“We need to get out of her range,” Genji reminded him, though it was hardly necessary.

“Obviously,” Hanzo growled, urging the creature to speed up with another prod from his heels. He knew getting the animal to travel in a winding pattern would make it harder for the hunter to hit them, but it was a complex series of directions he doubted he could successfully give an already-reluctant mount. Maintaining a straight course in favor of speed, he shakily trusted Genji to cover them until they were safely out of her reach.

Hanzo was flung out of the saddle and over the shirshu’s head when the creature’s rear leg slipped and jolted them backward before it crashed to the ground in a plume of dust. The fire lord toppled head-over-heels before he skidded to a stop quite a distance away, climbing back to his feet with a pained groan. He looked back to see one of the woman’s darts protruding from its haunch. Genji crawled away from the fallen animal while it groaned in annoyance, pawing at him sluggishly.  He spun around to grab his brother’s sleeve and pull him with him as they continued to run on foot.

“What’s your plan?” he asked.

“I don’t have one,” Hanzo admitted matter-of-factly.

“What!?”

“Do _you_ have one?” the fire lord demanded indignantly, responding to Genji’s tone, “until you do, I suggest you keep running.”

Genji reached down to burn the ropes off Hanzo’s wrists and gestured onward. “Keep going,” he growled, “we need to deal with her now or she’ll keep coming after us.”

Hanzo slowed down and turned to watch Genji drop into his firebending stance, knowing he was the only one out of the two of them equipped to handle a fight at that moment. Of course, he didn’t remember his brother ever giving his training enough attention to achieve the same range and precision as he had before he lost his power. Even if he’d been uncharacteristically attentive and disciplined during the entire time they were apart, that sort of control would take more time to master.

“Don’t be a fool,” Hanzo cried, “she is too far!” He jumped forward and grabbed Genji’s shoulder, only to be shoved away.

“Just go!”

Hanzo’s lips formed a snarl and he lunged forward to push his brother into cover against the paralyzed animal’s saddle just as another bolt whizzed by them. He crouched beside him and held his wrist firmly to keep him from jumping up again.

“If you must stay and fight, at least be smart enough to let her come to us,” he hissed.

 “Fine,” Genji growled back, “but don’t get used to bossing me around like you used to.”

“It’s not as if you ever listened,” Hanzo reminded him with a smirk.

Genji didn’t look back at him to reply, but he saw him toss his head and grunt out a chuckle, which was a welcome change of attitude. His small smile vanished when he heard the clamor of animal feet approaching them rapidly. He peeked over the shirshu’s saddle to see a ragtag group of rough-looking warriors mounted on an assortment of creatures galloping to meet them while the huntress followed slowly on foot, her crossbow at the ready.

“Tell me you have been practicing,” Hanzo whispered urgently.

Genji perched on the balls of his feet to look as well. “I have.”

Nodding to reassure himself, the fire lord turned around to face the warriors as they surrounded them. The two brothers brought their hands up in preparation for a fight, side-by-side, while the circle of enemies closed around them.

\---

Angela kept close behind Jesse as they left their ostrich horse behind, trusting the earthbender’s judgment on the matter. They’d heard a scuffle ahead and Jesse had dismounted to confirm they were outnumbered. She’d been about to suggest they turn back and try to signal Zenyatta, but Jesse had already been on the move. Reluctant to let him rush into danger alone, she’d followed.

Jesse gestured for her to take cover with him by crouching in a bush as soon as they had someone in their line of sight. Angela peered through the leaves to see a group of at least ten thugs gathered around a shirshu lying on the ground. Looking past them, she could see the woman Jesse had guessed took Genji and his brother approach the crowd, clearly on her guard.

“Thank you for your assistance, friends,” Lacroix greeted them carefully, “shall I buy a round to express my gratitude?”

“Never heard of you needing any help before, Lacroix,” one of the larger men replied haughtily, “seems only fair we get a share of this bounty.”

Angela squinted to try and sort through the cluster of legs and torsos and see who they’d surrounded. She was fairly certain it was obvious who they’d cornered, but her heart needed to, at least, see Genji was alright before they got into anything messy. There was someone lying on the ground, with another crouched over him, his palms up disarmingly. She couldn’t see enough of the first to identify him, but could easily tell the second wasn’t Genji, though it wasn’t hard to imagine the two of them being related with at least a few features in common.

The one she assumed was Hanzo was obviously older than the prince, with a well-kept mustache and goatee, dressed similarly to her group in deceptively Earth-Kingdom-styled garb. Even while he was on his knees, his back was proud and erect, but his expression was one of fearful concern. With the way he was positioned almost protectively over the other, she imagined the expression wasn’t so much for his own sake. She hoped Genji wasn’t too badly injured. Despite her gentle nature, she took at least some comfort in spotting burns on more than a few of the thugs with one or two on the ground nearby. At least they had been able to put up a fight.

“They’re both alive,” Jesse whispered, his hand to the ground while he assessed the situation through vibrations in the earth, “can’t say the same for all the assholes who attacked ‘em. Genji’s hurt, though; we’re gonna need to do this careful.”

“How hurt?” Angela whispered back, “is he awake?”

“Can’t tell from here.” He turned to glance back at her, putting a finger to his lips. “Maybe we can use this to our advantage, though. We gotta listen in.” Angela agreed silently, looking on while the mild altercation continued, hoping it wouldn’t escalate too quickly for their friends’ sake.

“They are no one of importance,” the bounty hunter lied upon reaching the group, dismissing the thug’s proposal with a wave of her hand, “this is a personal affair.”

“You must think we’re pretty stupid,” one of the others growled, a man who seemed to have a bit more intelligence in his tone and appearance than the brutes he spoke for, “we know ‘personal’ isn’t in your vocabulary, or did you think we call you ‘ice queen’ for your waterbending prowess?”

“The bounty is low,” Lacroix insisted, “too low to be worth a scuffle. Why don’t you all head back and have a drink on me as I suggested before things get dangerous?”

“Think you can take us all on?”

“Only if all of you are stupid enough to think ganging up on me will assure you each have equal shares of the pittance you’ll get for turning them in.” The woman chuckled haughtily. “Or have you all come to trust each other in my absence?”

Her words seemed to have the effect she wanted, with many of the thugs looking around at each other warily. The skinniest of the thugs, a tall man with tufts of blond hair, singed at the ends, poking haphazardly from his scalp, jumped forward to strike Hanzo in the back of the head with a junky, homemade-looking weapon. While the young fire lord was still dazed, he grabbed him and conjured a dagger of flame to hold it to his neck.

Angela felt the ground beneath her quake and reached forward to calmingly place her hand on Jesse’s shoulder and keep him from doing anything impulsive. It was painfully obvious to her, even in the short time since they’d been reunited, that Jesse valued Hanzo beyond any normal friendship between two people and wondered if the fire lord shared his obviously strong affection. It was abnormal for any kingly figure to be involved in something so…controversial, but she wasn’t going to say anything if she didn’t need to. It was their business, and strangely heart-warming to see.

“Seeing as we did all the work, this one’s ours,” the scraggly firebender who’d grabbed Hanzo declared, his voice high-pitched and sounding more than a little unstable, “you gents can fight over the little one. Right, Hoggie!?”

An even taller, rotund man with his face hidden behind a strange metal mask planted his hands on his hips and grunted his agreement, then reached up to pat a chain he had draped over his shoulder. The way the other thugs reacted, it was clear the two of them had a fearful reputation, though Lacroix herself seemed unshaken.

“Anyone got a problem with that?” ‘Hoggie’ rumbled in a gruff, muffled voice, challenging the group as a whole.

Someone did have a problem with that, though it wasn’t anyone the two would-be kidnappers might’ve expected. Jesse sprung into the air and brought his fists down hard into the ground, causing the earth to ripple as the force of his bending traveled toward the group. A pillar of rock erupted from beneath the skinny man’s feet, launching him high into the air with a surprised cry. The singed man laughed shrilly while flying through the air until he landed chin-first a few feet away with a grunt.

Freed from the threat of the fiery blade that’d been at his throat, Hanzo wasted no time in putting some distance between him and the skinny man’s partner, who was already preparing his chain, before turning to see who’d done the deed. Although the resulting smile was as reserved as she might’ve expected of the fire lord, Angela could see a lot of relief and joy in his countenance. The happy moment was quickly wiped out when each of the thugs who hadn’t been too severely injured during the initial fight with the brothers readied their respective weapons and turned to face the interlopers. Two of them took aggressive bending stances that seemed reminiscent of Jesse’s. With luck, the unstable man would be the only firebender they’d have to face.

Jesse took hold of Angela’s bicep and pulled her close before carving out the square of rock they stood on and pushing it high into the air. Below them, rocks collided with the stone pillar and burst into pebbles.

“Well, darlin’,” he began, his tone dark despite his use of the pet name, “let’s show ‘em what they get fer messin’ with our friends.”

Jesse jumped off the top of the pillar and rolled over his shoulder to a crouched position, hurling a volley of small pebbles the instant he came to a stop. There was a series of clangs and grunts as weapons were knocked from hands and bodies were plinked with earthen pellets. Keeping his distance, Jesse rolled away just in time to avoid being struck with a flying boulder.

Angela uncorked the two skins she’d brought with her from the Air Temple just for the occasion she might need to waterbend and streamed the water out to form two liquid tentacles on either side of her body. She swiped at a crossbow bolt headed toward her head and managed to catch it within the water she manipulated, then whipped it around to hurl it back toward her attacker. Caught off guard, Lacroix was struck in the thigh and collapsed to the ground instantly, proving her suspicions about it being coated in shirshu venom correct. The waterbender couldn’t help but grin at that, having originally come up with idea after watching Genji deflect projectiles with his sword. She hadn’t expected it to work so well.

Jesse acted quickly when he saw several of the thugs heading toward their dangerous-looking mounts by forming a ridge of earth between them, then pushing it outward to frighten the animals further away. He paid particular attention to the fierce-looking komodo rhino awaiting its equally fierce-looking rider by pushing it far, far away with a wall of rock. Acting quickly, he brought up another wall right in front of him to block the two earthbenders’ next attacks. Having made it broad enough, Jesse moved aside to allow Angela to join him behind it.

“There are too many,” the girl worried aloud, consolidating her two water streams into one hovering ball over her hands.

“We just gotta take this one step at a time,” Jesse replied, strangely calm despite it all, “keep light on your feet and knock ‘em out one after the other. The two of us keep that up n’ they’ll be gone in no time.”

“Right,” Angela agreed, trying to reassure herself with a false show of confidence.

Jesse flinched when a rock struck the top of his wall hard enough to chip it and pelt them with debris, then pulled Angela a little lower. “I’ll keep the earthbenders off us n’ disrupt the group so they can’t rally fer a counter attack,” he said quickly, “you start stabbin’ at ‘em with icicles, or whatever it is you waterbenders do. Sound like a plan?”

“It does,” Angela agreed, “I’ll follow your lead.”

Following the hastily-concocted plan, Jesse took the forefront while maintaining his defensive maneuvers and keeping the thugs on their toes with pokes and prods from the ground beneath their feet. Angela followed close behind him, carefully forming ice darts and firing them at their enemies whenever she got a good shot. Her conscience threatened to guilt her into inaction at every step, but she made sure to glance over at Genji often, just to remind herself why she was fighting. He needed healing…he needed her.

Just as Jesse had promised, the fight was over quickly and in a methodical fashion. Angela returned her remaining water to the skins she carried on her belt and hurried past the people she’d injured or killed to reach Genji, who was finally starting to stir. The prince groaned when she touched him, but smiled when he looked up to see who’d come to him.

“You found us,” he whispered weakly.

Angela nodded, but didn’t say anything, choosing instead to focus on his injuries. Placing her hands over his body, she sensed throughout him for any truly worrisome damage. Luckily, aside from a cracked rib or two and the cut on his scalp that came from a good, solid hit to the cranium, he just had a few cuts and scrapes. They were all things she could heal in less than a week, but getting him back to the temple without making the injuries worse would be the true challenge.

“Wait a goddamn second,” Jesse spat from somewhere behind her. Alarmed, she looked back to see him looking around frantically. “Where the hell is Han!?” he demanded.

Angela looked around as well, but it appeared there were fewer people in the area than before, by at least three. The skinny man, his friend ‘Hoggie’, and Hanzo were nowhere to be found.

“They must’ve gotten away during the fight!”

Jesse roared and stamped his foot into the ground, launching one of the injured thugs into the air. He spun around and stormed toward her. “C’mon! We gotta go after ‘em.”

“We can’t leave Genji here and he’s in no shape for a fight,” Angela argued, “he needs medical attention.”

“What about Hanzo!?” Jesse cried incredulously, “we can’t let them collect a bounty on him anymore than we could let Lacroix!”

“We should go back and find the others; they will be able to help.”

Jesse had his fists clenched tightly while he paced back and forth in a short line as if he was trying to consider her proposal, though she doubted he was thinking about anything other than running after Hanzo alone. Angela rested Genji’s head gently on the ground and stood up to meet him, taking one of his fists in both of her hands.

“We’ll get him back,” she promised calmly and rationally, “please, help me with Genji so we can get back sooner and start the search. They cannot outrun Iris.”

Jesse pursed his lips on frustration, but the fist in her hands finally relaxed. “Right,” he said, “yer right. Sorry, darlin’, I didn’t mean to get worked up.”

“It’s alright,” Angela replied quietly, releasing his hand so she could go back to Genji’s side, “we should hurry, just in case there are more bounty hunters in that lodge.”

“Right…” Jesse repeated, trailing his thought off into silence. She looked back to see him storm over to Lacroix and pull her halfway off the ground with one angry yank. “Who were they?” he demanded. Angela didn’t push him to leave her, figuring she would know more about the two kidnappers than either of them could discover on their own. It was a few minutes they could afford to spare, but Lacroix didn’t seem eager to spill any information for them. “Look,” Jesse went on, his tone surprisingly rational despite his obvious anger, “way I see it, you get nothin’ if they collect the bounty. We get Hanzo back and you got a chance again. You really gonna clam up just to spite us?”

Lacroix sighed in annoyance, her expression calm despite the danger of being paralyzed in Jesse’s grasp. “I do not know their true names,” she murmured, “but they respond to ‘Junkrat’ and ‘Roadhog’ as if they’re compliments.” Her face wrinkled in disgust. “ _D_ _é_ _go_ _û_ _tant_.  That is all I know.”

“I’ll be back fer you,” Jesse promised in a growl, “don’t like hittin’ a lady, but I’d say you don’t qualify as one. You better not be here when I get back.” He dropped her on the ground and spun around to join Angela in helping Genji to his feet.


	20. Chapter Twenty

Hanzo grunted against the gag that’d been tied securely in his mouth while he bounced roughly against the big man’s back with every heavy step, held there by the chain wrapped tightly around his body. The smaller one hobbled after them on a crude peg leg, letting out an occasional nutty giggle. They’d left the sight of the fight far behind, going deeper into the forest past the lodge, to an area so thick with trees the sunlight came through in patchy speckles on the forest floor.

Hanzo had been so relieved to see Jesse’s face…had almost succumb to the urge to throw himself into his arms before the big man’s chain snatched him up in a whirl. He’d been nearly crushed against the ground while the big one held him down for the small one to gag, Jesse’s impressive earthbending erupting around them. The presence of the other bounty hunters had proven a sufficient distraction, allowing even a man as large as this “Hoggie” to slip away. He had a lot of things to say to his kidnappers, plenty of insults and threats, though none of them could make it out in anything more than an angry, muffled groan.

“You think he’s worth a lot, Hoggie?” the smaller man asked while they walked, “he looks important, so clean and stormy as he is. I think we’re headed to a life of luxury!”

“What’s your plan, Rat?” the larger grunted.

‘Rat’ wheezed out an unhinged sort of laugh, clapping his hands together. “Glad you asked!” he declared, “first, we turn him in, then we get rich! Easiest bounty we ever had, mate!”

“Where?”

“Huh?”

“ _Where_?” the hog repeated, looking down at him, “we don’t even know who he is.”

“Right, right…guess we forgot to ask that part, eh?”

“Mmhm.”

Hanzo had to try hard not to roll his eyes for the sake of keeping his watchful gaze on his captors. He’d been planning to examine their behavior for weaknesses, but that didn’t seem to be the hard part. As foolhardy as the rat seemed, and as unconcerned as the hog seemed in going along with his “plan”, they were dangerous. One’s weaknesses seemed to complement the other’s strength, and their strengths complemented their weaknesses…a truly successful kind of partnership he didn’t think he’d ever see. As dirty and unsophisticated as they were, he had to spare some respect for them.

During the fight in which he and Genji hopelessly tried to stop themselves from being recaptured by the crowd of bounty hunters that’d swarmed from the lodge upon hearing the commotion outside, Hog and Rat had been almost solely responsible for subduing the Shimada brothers. Rat was obviously a firebender, but he didn’t use any style Hanzo had ever seen during his time living and training in the capital. In fact, it looked less like a style and more like a deranged idiot throwing fireballs wherever he felt like it. As haphazard as it was, it was effective enough to knock Genji into the hog with a well-placed explosion.

Hog, on the other hand, was clearly not a bender, but possessed more than his fair share of brute strength. As soon as Genji had been blown into his reach, one heavy strike from his enormous chain had driven the air from his lungs and slapped him back against the ground with enough force to knock him unconscious.

As desperate as they had been to defend themselves, the skirmish was over as quickly as it’d started, with one or two of the hunters on their backs, several with nasty burns, and Genji out cold. As soon as the hog had gotten a hold on the fire lord’s tunic, he knew he had no choice but to surrender, more concerned with making sure Genji was still alive than with putting up a fruitless fight. As dire as his situation was, he didn’t know exactly how set the two were on their current course. As long as he could keep them from figuring out who he was, there was a chance they would give up on him.

“I got it!” the rat announced after a few seconds of thought, “set him down. I’m sure ole Stormy here knows who’d pay big bucks to get him locked up.” He waited until Hog had complied by tossing Hanzo into the forest debris on the ground before hobbling over to yank the gag free. “Whaddya say, Stormy? Feel like sharing the wealth?” the question came out with an almost sing-songy quality to it, as if he seemed to think he would just tell him what he wanted to know while he watched him with that wide-eyed, frightening grin on his face.

Hanzo spat the gag out and glared up at him. “I would sooner tell you where to find a bath,” he hissed, “not that it would do you any good.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” the rat squealed, reaching up to ruffle his own hair, sending specs of debris and ash flying in all directions, “I’m _gorgeous_! Just the way I am.”

“Focus,” the hog grunted, flopping down into a sitting position against a tree, his pants struggling to stay hanging around his prodigious hips. He dug into his backpack and produced a banana. It looked comically small in his enormous hands, hands that rivaled even Reinhardt’s in size.

“Right!” the rat exclaimed, bopping Hanzo on the head with the end of his peg leg, “no more jokes, got it? Where can we get your bounty?”

“He’s not gonna talk,” the hog grumbled, taking a bite of the banana after raising his mask just a little.

“Come now, Hoggie, have a little faith! All we gotta do is hurt him a little, aye?” He laughed giddily and tossed a little ball of flame into the dead leaves just beside Hanzo’s face before the fire lord could say anything to stop him. Predictably in the most obvious way, the leaves ignited in an instant and Hanzo was forced to roll to safety, only to be grabbed again by the squirrelly man while he let out an exaggerated sigh. “Y’know, there was a time people were afraid to make a firebender angry. Whadyoo suppose happened to those times?”

The large man didn’t even dignify it with a disinterested grunt, choosing instead to lounge against the tree as if he had no stake in it. Clearly, he didn’t think they were going to get anywhere with their captive, and Hanzo had appreciate his foresight, though he was choosing not to act on it.

“A man like you can hardly call himself a firebender,” Hanzo growled, “you have absolutely no control. You are more a mad dog than a true warrior!”

The skinny one giggled. “I like dogs. Don’t you?” His expression suddenly turning sinister, the man pulled him off the ground and started to straighten his posture, proving himself to be much taller than his captive. “What I don’t like is when a guy doesn’t know he’s beat and keeps standing between me and my payday! How do they want ya? Dead? Alive? Do you need all your limbs? C’mon, Stormy, spit it out!”

“If I refuse to tell you, are you willing to risk losing your money by torturing me?” the fire lord hissed, his expression consistently defiant despite the danger he was trying to escape by appealing to his mercenary nature. Even then, he had no idea how unhinged the rat truly was. He knew it was entirely possible that even with the threat of losing his money the unpredictable bounty hunter could…snap.

“Oooh, hoo!” the rat cooed, “so you’re not as stupid as I thought you were! Alright, alright. I’ll just be careful not to leave any marks, aye?”

As if he hadn’t noticed it before, it took the hog a while to get up and stamp out the spreading fire his partner had caused, and by then it seemed the rat had made up his mind about how he’d extract the information he wanted. A dagger of fire similar to the one he’d threatened to kill Hanzo with earlier appeared above his fist and he was already drawing his arm back to jab him when the other caught his wrist, grunting negatively.

“ _What_?” the rat whined at him, “I was gonna put it somewhere no one would see! Under his shirt, or, or—“

The hog grunted “move” tersely before snatching Hanzo’s tunic away from his partner’s grasp and shoving him away. He lifted the restrained fire lord high off the forest floor as easily as any other man might lift a kitten. Hanzo’s eyes widened against his bidding. He wasn’t sure whose mercy he’d rather be at, the one who seemed as likely to kiss him as tear off his pinky finger with his teeth or the one who could concave his chest cavity with one swift punch. Either way, he was at a loss for ideas and escape seemed less and less likely in his future.

“It’s been a long day,” the hog growled at him, “soon as _you_ start talking _he’ll_ stop talking.”

“Jump in a canyon,” Hanzo spat back, willing to risk a little physical injury if it’d keep his true identity from them.

“Brave. Not smart, but I like it.”

The rat laughed loudly. “It’s been a while since we last had a pet, eh? Whaddya think, Hoggie? Long as you don’t sit on him like the last one, I mean.” He laughed again and, for once, something that resembled a short, harsh chuckle rumbled out of the hog’s throat.

“Charming,” Hanzo growled, trying and failing to find the ground with the toes of his boots, “but you are both wasting your time.”

The fire lord noticed a change in the breeze before his mind was able to process what could have caused the rat to suddenly launch forward and ram face-first into a nearby tree. Immediately after the first of his captors had disappeared from view a gust of wind rushed past him, tossing his rustled hair over his face. Grunting and peering through the black strands that hung before his field of vision, Hanzo spotted a bald man with blue dots tattooed in a square pattern on his forehead. He stood in a light, easy stance that gave the illusion he was light as a feather. His markings and clothing revealed him as an airbender, a creature he hadn’t seen since his father swore off any ties to their pacifistic ways.

A string of questions would have followed the monk’s sudden appearance if Commander Morrison didn’t appear shortly after, wielding a spear as he sprinted into action. The hog looked at his partner who lie in the leaves, out cold, then looked back at them. Sighing, he held up a hand as a signal for the commander to stop. Warily, Morrison slowed down, watching him closely for a false move.

“Release him,” he growled, “ _now_.”

The hog grunted out a humorless laugh and tossed Hanzo on the ground as if he were a sack of garbage. “Take him.”

The air nomad tilted his head curiously, dropping his battle pose. “You are…very generous,” he observed aloud, his tone calm but confused.

The hog shrugged. “Idiot would’ve spent all the money on boba tea, anyway.”

He straightened and folded his arms while watching the commander approach him slowly, his weapon still at the ready. Even with the sharp, pointy end directed at his unnecessarily large gut, he didn’t even flinch when Morrison gave him a warning glare before reaching down to touch the chain that held Hanzo.

“By the way,” the hog growled, “you break my chain and I’ll break you, Blondie.”

Unwilling to take his eyes off the man towering over him, the commander had difficulty unraveling the chain. Thankfully, the monk came to help him, clearly devoid of fear despite the hog’s intimidating presence. Hanzo kept his mouth shut and his body still to avoid ruining the situation for them, at least until his bonds had been loosened enough to let him wriggle free and stand, facing the hog and the rat immediately, his suspicions apparent. The hog sighed and turned his back on them, clearly not afraid of being outnumbered, to pick his partner off the forest floor and sling him over his shoulder. After collecting his chain, he walked away carelessly, his heavy steps flattening the bed of leaves beneath them with every step.

It wasn’t until he was out of sight that the commander took his eyes off the forest ahead of them and turned them on Hanzo. “My lord,” he whispered harshly, “I never thought it was my place to give orders to a member of the royal family, but it’s my job to keep you safe. Don’t _ever_ wander off again. I will not lose my charge to his own stubbornness. _Got it_!?”

As insistent as he’d sounded, Hanzo could tell by the look on his face that he was as uncomfortable saying it as he was sure it needed to be said. Clearly, he expected an argument and wasn’t looking forward to it. Relinquishing eye contact first, Hanzo chose to stare at a rock that was far enough away it wouldn’t look like he was lowering his gaze.

“You are right, of course,” he murmured, “I…should not have left the course of our plan.” It was never in him to apologize too obviously, but he hoped Morrison would understand what he was trying to tell him. He’d nearly gotten himself killed, as well as his brother…again. He knew he was capable, but he’d been a fool to assume he was too capable to be overpowered. It was a lesson in humility he couldn’t afford to ignore. Judging by the commander’s hesitation, Hanzo could only guess he’d surprised him. Perhaps he hadn’t expected an outright apology, after all.

At last, Morrison grunted to clear his throat. “Right…good,” he muttered, reaching out to take Hanzo’s bicep firmly, though not too forcefully, still very clearly trying to avoid crossing the line in the territory of insubordination. “Let’s get out of here before they change their minds.”

As they walked back to where the commander and his monk had left their mounts, one of the stolen ostrich horses and an enormous female air bison, the airbender introduced himself as Zenyatta, a childhood friend of Genji’s. Still whirling from the reappearance of his “dead” brother and the close calls of the hours before, Hanzo could only mutter a disinterested “fascinating”. Whether or not Zenyatta took offense, he wasn’t sure.

This meant, of course, that Morrison had to know Genji was still alive, yet he wasn’t asking any questions, which made him wonder how much he already knew from conversing with the monk. Hanzo realized he somehow didn’t care. He was avoiding both of their gazes, the magnitude of his shame becoming increasingly overwhelming the longer he thought about Genji.

He and his brother had been able to cooperate in an attempt to escape, but the mistakes of his past were unforgiveable, and there were a few Genji didn’t even know about. He knew he was probably a monster to him, but he was much more of monster than he could know, than anyone could know…with, apparently, the exception of Master Akande. He knew what happened that night, as he’d taunted him the day he took his palace from him. Finally free to keep his distance from his resurrected brother, he didn’t know how he could do anything but avoid him for the remainder of his life, as short as it was guaranteed to be in the face of Genji’s justified anger.

\---

Jesse burst through the door of Master Ana’s hut with the reckless determination of a whirling dervish. “Where—!” he stopped himself to lower his voice as soon as he realized he was yelling. With Angela crouched next to Genji, Ana overseeing her healing process, and Reinhardt looking on in interest, he decided revealing just how much Hanzo meant to him wouldn’t be wise. “Erm, I mean…where are they?” he asked, “I saw the signal that someone found the fire lord.”

“They will be here soon, I’m sure,” Ana assured him sternly, “now sit.”

Jesse sighed nervously and leaned his rear against the table, unable to settle himself enough to sit all the way down while adrenaline was still coursing through him. Soon, he was standing again, slowly pacing by the door.

“ _Sit_ ,” Ana repeated.

Groaning out a reluctant sigh, Jesse forced himself to sit on a cushion a distance away from Genji and the healers. He wasn’t sure what he’d do when Hanzo and his rescuers came. He knew what he wanted to do, but…the fire lord had made it clear that sort of attention wasn’t allowed. It still hurt to think they both wanted something they couldn’t have, just because Hanzo was born to the wrong parents. He found all of his nervous energy channeling into those unwelcome thoughts and tried to focus instead on Genji’s status.

Angela had said at least one of his ribs was fractured by one very strong blow, and that his head had taken a nasty hit when he struck the ground as a result. Any further internal damage had yet to be diagnosed when he ran out to search again…but he couldn’t pull together the energy to ask. As much as he cared about Genji, he knew he was in good hands…it was his brother he wasn’t sure about.

He jumped to his feet instantly when he heard footsteps outside, yanking the door open to see who it was. His father met him at the door and paused only to shove him aside with a stern look before making way for Jack, Hanzo, and Zenyatta to enter. As harsh as it felt in that instant, Jesse worked to pull himself together again, silently grateful to Gabe for stopping him from making a complete fool of himself.

"Damned Fire Nation pups," Gabe grumbled, masking the real reason for his harsh expression behind what was probably true frustration.

“Ah!” Reinhardt greeted them with a boom, “my relief at seeing each of you safe is immeasurable, my friends!”

Jesse was unafraid to stare a little while looking over Hanzo from a distance to be sure he was alright. He noticed he was coddling one of his hands, keeping it hidden in the folds of his tunic, and there were a few visible cuts and scrapes. By the way he winced when Jack released his bicep it wasn’t hard to imagine his sleeves hid more than a few future bruises. Minor injuries aside, he seemed to be alright, at least until Jesse saw the expression on his face.

Hanzo looked like he was staring into the face of his worst nightmare as he regarded his unconscious brother. At first, Jesse thought he was worried at seeing him injured, but the look in his eye was more terrified than concerned. Something was abnormal about the relationship between Hanzo and Genji, and Jesse wasn’t sure why that surprised him; “it’s complicated” seemed to be an apt summation of every relationship the fire lord had. As quickly as the look of terror had appeared on his face, it vanished when Hanzo regained his usual air of royal detachment, though he noticeably kept his distance.

“Well, at least you’re in one piece,” Master Ana teased before brazenly walking up to him, “now, let me see that hand.” Hanzo turned his shoulder to her in recoil, the familiar look of distrust keeping his body rigid in what should have been a safe place. Something was very wrong. Ana seemed unconcerned, chuckling in an amused, motherly way. “You could let me treat it or you could let it fester,” she warned him, “it’s your choice, but it might be harder to rule with one hand amputated.”

Reluctantly, Hanzo pulled his hand out of his tunic to reveal a nasty burn, the sort of burn that could cause terrible scars like the ones that decorated Genji’s face. Angela had mentioned that Genji had gotten his scars from a firebender, then he recalled what she’d said about Genji’s anger toward Hanzo. As a firebender himself, Genji was more than capable of delivering such a wound. He tried not to judge him for it; he knew nothing of the situation, and he wanted to believe Genji was as good a person as he seemed until it was proven otherwise.

Ana had only begun to soothe the burn when Genji stirred, causing Hanzo to start and pull away from her. “Thank you,” he grunted, “but I need fresh air.” He slipped away from her and out the door before Jack could stop him. The commander was about to follow in a huff when Jesse pushed past him.

“I got him,” he said, hoping it’d be enough to keep Jack in place so he could have a moment alone with the fire lord. He wasn’t planning to do anything _forbidden_ , but he knew Hanzo always seemed more comfortable with him. Something was on his mind, and he hoped he could give him the chance to let it out before it led to anything drastic and regrettable.

He’d barely made it outside when Hanzo spun around and shouted, “I am not running off!” His expression softened when he saw who’d followed him. “Oh,” he murmured, “I thought you were someone else.”

“Jack just doesn’t want anythin’ to happen to ya,” Jesse replied, smiling kindly, “he don’t mean anythin’ by it.”

“I am aware,” Hanzo grumbled, turning his back to him, “I only need air. Tell him I will return shortly and leave me to my thoughts.”

“Now, that’d be downright irresponsible of me. I won’t bother ya none, but I’m just gonna keep an eye out, alright?”

Hanzo didn’t say anything to argue, his back still facing Jesse and the hut while he stared out toward the edge of the canyon. There was silence between them while the earthbender leaned back against the hut’s outer wall, refraining from asking any of the questions swirling around in his brain. He wanted to believe their friendship had progressed to a place where he didn’t have to encourage Hanzo to open up when he needed it. He trusted him to say what he needed to say, or to at least say enough to invite questioning. His manner was endearing to him in that way, as frustrating as it could be to extract honesty from him.

“You would be wise to let me leave,” Hanzo murmured at last, still facing the canyon, “I do not belong among these people…the friends of my brother.”

Jesse sighed and reached up to play with his pipe. “I beg ta differ…heard there was somethin’ between you two, but does that really matter at a time like this?” he asked, “you got a nation to save, n’ so does he. Tiffs between brothers ain’t as important as all that.”

“You know nothing of what I’ve done,” Hanzo growled, turning his head halfway so he could just see him out of his peripheral vision.

Jesse nodded once, pulling his pipe from between his lips to light it with the flame of the torch by Ana’s door. Sticking it back where it was to take a puff, he hooked his thumbs under his belt and took a step closer. “No, I don’t,” he agreed, “but way I figure, if it’s important you’ll tell me yerself. If it ain’t, you can deal with it on yer own later. Am I wrong?”

Hanzo folded his arms, turning his head away again. “It is…selfish of me, but I cannot tell you. I cannot bear how it will make you see me. A shame like this is…unfathomable, and it belongs to me alone.”

“Alright,” the earthbender grumbled in feigned disinterest, taking another puff of his pipe. He knew that should’ve been the end of it, but there was one more worry lingering in his brain, one he had to voice. He gave it a few moments of silence, then spoke up again, “but I think I should say this: I’d rather hear it from you than from Genji or one of the others, hear yer side of the story before someone else can tell me theirs. I mean, if you think it won’t come up, I’ll trust ya on it.”

Finally, the fire lord turned to face him, his arms still crossed tightly and his whole body rigid with anxiety. “It will come up,” he admitted, “that much is certain. But at this moment I can only say…I am a coward and he deserves his vengeance, though it is not in me to give it to him with honor.”

“If you can’t tell me, don’t.”

“I tried to kill him.”

Jesse had come up with many theories as to what could have taken place between Hanzo and Genji, even the possibility that they’d fought and it was Hanzo’s handiwork that adorned Genji’s body with scars…but what Hanzo said wasn’t one of his theories. He scrambled searching for something to say that sounded anything like his normal character, but all he could say in response was “what?”

“Genji…my own younger brother,” Hanzo whispered, the regret obvious despite his maintained regal bearing, “for months I thought I’d succeeded…but now he is in there, alive.”

Jesse shook his head and let out a low whistle, perplexed and unsure how to process the new information. “Yer…gonna need to back up a step,” he said, “what could ever possess a man to try killin’ his brother?”

Hanzo tossed his head in exasperation, looking amused at himself in the most horrible way. “My father ordered me to teach him a lesson in responsibility. I failed, and that angered me. In my rage I attacked him…it should have killed him. It _would_ have killed him, if he were not cursed with such uncanny luck.”

Jesse tried not to appear as horrified as he felt. He wanted to believe it was all a prank, that none of what Hanzo was telling him was true. Slowly, he realized the fire lord was very different than he thought. It was…grotesque, revolting. And yet it was Hanzo. He wanted to envelop him in his arms, and to bury him in the dirt until morning. With two very opposite feelings toward him, he would have hoped they’d cancel each other out…but they didn’t. They just made each other worse, more painful.

As much as he wanted it to be false, he didn’t have any trouble imagining Hanzo doing such a thing during one of the moments he lost his usual cool. In fact, were it not for the absence of his bending ability, he imagined he would have had quite a few burns himself by then.

Clearly, the emotional change in Jesse had managed to slip out into his appearance, causing Hanzo to react in a more obvious show of shame and regret that failed to move the earthbender to console him. Normally, such an expression on the fire lord’s face would’ve broken his heart and given him the urge to embrace him. His heart was broken, yes, but in too many ways to decide on a course of action.

“I was selfish in allowing you to place me on a pedestal,” Hanzo admitted emphatically, his defense falling more and more with each regretful word, “I am—I…tried to kill my own brother, the one person who cared for me despite each of my many faults. I allowed my father’s throne to be snatched out from under me by a usurper, and allowed that usurper to steal the allegiance of my royal guard. I allowed a witch to steal the thing that makes me leader of the Fire Nation.” He laughed incredulously, edging backward slowly as if it could help him escape the look on Jesse’s face. “I am…the worst fire lord in history,” he whispered hoarsely. Clearing his throat, he looked up again and shook his head. “Genji is the one who deserves the throne…but I was born first.”

Fearing what Jack would do to him if he allowed Hanzo to run, as he seemed keen to do if he pushed him any further, Jesse had to take a long, deep breath to gather his thoughts and words. At last, he spoke up, slowly to make sure his words were carefully chosen, “what’s done is done. You can either run from it, or you can face it, n’ I can’t make that decision for ya. I don’t think yer a coward…but I’ve been wrong before. I’ll leave ya to it.”

The earthbender let a sigh out through his nose and plucked his pipe from his lips, dumping the precious tobacco out into the dirt so he could stamp it out before going back inside. He wasn’t in the mood to hear it from Gabe…not then.


	21. Chapter Twenty One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not particularly proud of this chapter but it needed to happen and it’s been holding me up for too long. The end is reachable, now, and I can only hope to make it better from here on out.

Genji woke up to see Angela over him. A smile came to his lips, at least until she helped him sit up and he could see who else was with them. Jack Morrison, the palace’s guard commander, was there, which meant he’d been brought back _with_ Hanzo, the problem he still didn’t know how to solve. McCree and Zenyatta both grinned to see him well, though McCree’s smile seemed unsure. It wasn’t hard to imagine either Zenyatta or Angela telling him what’d happened between him and Hanzo, but he hoped the grimness in his expression was unrelated.

            Or perhaps he didn’t. Of all the terrible things that could’ve happened to them, McCree knowing about their family troubles was probably the least dire. He’d done a lot of thinking during his time unconscious, which sounded strange even to him. It almost felt like he’d gone somewhere else…seen something else. Even as his friends were gathering around him to ask him how he was and express their happiness, he knew he had to make a decision.

            Grunting as he stood, he gently pushed his way past Zenyatta and out the door without stopping to tell anyone anything. They wouldn’t understand what he was thinking and feeling, or what he needed to do to figure himself out. Walking out into the approaching dawn he allowed his instincts to guide him.

\---

            Jack had been both overjoyed and worried when he first realized Prince Genji was still alive. While it was good to know the family he was meant to protect was more whole than he originally knew, it meant he’d been lied to by Fire Lord Sojiro. He wondered how much the new fire lord had known, as well as the council of elders.

If the prince hadn’t been killed by one of his instructors in a training accident, he’d been ordered to hand an innocent man over to his executioner. At the time the man’s cries of innocence had fallen on deaf ears, as it was something he’d heard from wrong doers too many times before. He’d known the former fire lord was a hard man, one who was capable of great sacrifice for the good of his nation. But this lie told him that wasn’t all he was, leaving him to imagine how many times he’d been told to act under questionable circumstances and hadn’t known about it.

He knew it would be polite to wait a while after the prince woke up to ask him what had really happened…but Genji didn’t say a word to anyone before he stormed out the door with the bearing of a man with purpose. Like the others, he followed him outside and away from the hut. While they all seemed unsure what to do, three of them seemed slightly less confused, as if they knew the most. He doubted any one of the younger members of their group considered him a “friend”, but he would have liked to think they knew he was someone who could be trusted. Having secrets kept from him could only make his job more difficult.

\---

            Genji could somehow feel himself being pulled in the right direction, and he could almost see the faint azure trail left by an injured spirit dragon as it passed. He’d seen so much while unconscious, as if Hanzo’s return had unlocked something that’d been hindering him during Zenyatta’s guided meditations. The longer he was awake he could feel his view of the spirit world fading, but even with his moment of enlightenment slowly being left in the past he could feel his brother’s will was wavering. He didn’t know if it was the lack of his bending that’d caused it, or something more meaningful. This was his chance to find out.

            It was only seconds after he’d caught his first glimpse of his brother before he bore down on him like a hurricane. His fist flew out and struck Hanzo in the cheek hard enough to send him to his knees, stunned. He could hear the others behind him talking, unsure who to help or how to stop what they must’ve believed was the beginning of a fight. He ignored them and waited, watching.

            Hanzo made no move to stand and defend himself and it was several seconds before he looked up at him, his expression blank as if in an attempt to hide the brokenness Genji could see in his eyes and the aura of his soul. Something had changed, wounded him deeply since they last fought. It made Genji’s decision that much easier. He held out his hand to him.

\---

            Hanzo stared at the outstretched hand in wary apprehension, weighing his options. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to happen, or what he wanted Genji to say. He didn’t know if he had the will to say anything, himself, but simply sitting there wasn’t going to achieve anything. Numbly, he reached up and took his brother’s hand.

            In a whirl of movement Hanzo was swept to his feet and into Genji’s arms. Stunned, he didn’t risk moving. Where was the knife? He hadn’t seen a blade in either of his hands, but he knew there had to be one, somewhere.

            “I forgive you.”

            The trembling he’d been suppressing started, then. He knew Genji could feel him shaking, but couldn’t muster the pride to be embarrassed by it. So much unsteady hope had flooded him in an instant, and all he could think was “how?” and soon that was all he could ask.

            “How?” he whispered, “after all I’ve done? I haven’t even apologized.”

            “You just did,” Genji replied confidently.

            At last, Hanzo allowed his arms to wrap themselves around his brother’s shoulders, returning the unexpected hug. He knew he’d been wrong about the knife, and should have known that sooner. Genji wouldn’t do it…he was nothing like him.

            “You are cold as ice, Brother,” the prince went on, releasing him, “come back inside. You should allow Master Ana to tend your burn.”

            Hanzo looked in the direction of the hut he’d been prepared to leave behind if Genji had chosen to challenge his rule. Most of their group had followed Genji, understandably, but had kept their distance. That, he was thankful for.

            He wished McCree wasn’t among them. Even then, he wasn’t meeting his gaze. That small sting left him feeling numb despite the love his brother had given him. He deserved to be shunned, not loved. Thinking about it wasn’t going to change it. It was a crisp morning, and he’d been outside for a while. He guessed he should have been cold. Before he could voice his consent to go inside, Genji had taken his wrist and begun pulling him toward the others.

\---

            Genji sat across from his brother, both of them equidistant from Zenyatta who sat facing the space between them. It’d taken some measure of convincing, but Hanzo had finally agreed to meditate with them after his injuries had been treated. His mood hadn’t improved, by the looks of it. He wanted to ask him why he was so glum, but he knew it wasn’t likely he’d tell him anything meaningful without some extensive prying, so he would just leave him to his brooding for the moment.

            “I mean no offense to you, Monk,” Hanzo grumbled, “but I do not see the point of this exercise. I know how to meditate, on my own.”

            “I told you, Brother!” Genji exclaimed, his exasperation coming to a peak, “you do not know how to meditate like this.”

            “To see glimpses of the spirit world and its unusual creatures?” the fire lord teased, “I’m sure I could learn if I purchased a bottle of cactus juice.”

            “I was _not_ hallucinating. I would know the difference.”

            Hanzo scoffed. “Undoubtedly.”

            “I beg your pardon, my friends,” Zenyatta interjected, finally, “this process will require your focus. If you would prefer to do this at a later time…”

            “No,” Hanzo sighed, shrugging, “I would prefer to get this taken care of now, if it will put the matter to rest.”

            Genji grinned, looking over at Zenyatta to nod. “Do you think you can help him?”

            “Help me what?”

            Zenyatta smiled serenely, tilting his head a little. “All I am capable of doing is showing one the nature of his spirit, to help him reach inner peace,” he explained, “however, being at peace is the key to becoming a truly powerful bender. I would like to believe anything is possible.”

            “You believe I may overcome the witch’s curse on my own?” the fire lord asked, his disbelief obvious.

            “Perhaps, once you have been shown how.”

            Genji looked over at his brother expectantly, leaning forward a little as if to silently say ‘just do it!’ Hanzo raised an eyebrow at him, then shrugged and nodded his agreement. Zenyatta smiled again, retrieving his metal beads from their pouch.

\---

            Genji identified the moment his consciousness faded from the physical world easily, having experienced it before. He looked up to see Hanzo with the same confused expression he was sure he had on his face the first time he’d accepted Zenyatta’s offer. Things were different around them than it had ever been when he was alone with the monk, the scenery no doubt being affected by the presence of an extra mind and spirit.

The darkness that usually occupied the space around him before he would choose a direction in his mind had been replaced by a serene garden that seemed to be decorated with a gentle mist that changed color depending on which cluster of flowers it hovered around. The blossoms were nothing like any Genji had ever seen before, clearly otherworldly in nature. He doubted either he or Hanzo had the imagination to think them up, thus causing him to turn and look at Zenyatta curiously. He gasped when he saw the monk’s quadrilateral tattoo glowing blue, his eyes closed and body motionless…more than motionless. It was as if Zenyatta had been frozen in time. Shocked, he looked over at Hanzo, who had also noticed the worrisome change.

“What is happening, Genji?” he asked.

Genji shook his head slowly, starting to look around for answers. It was then he saw someone new. A man was making his way toward them, slowly through the garden. His feet seemed to float silently above the simulated ground, the mist parting as he passed. He was just over middle-aged, dressed in a loose yellow-tan robe with a full orange sash wrapped over one shoulder and tucked into a cloth belt. He seemed to be an airbender monk like Zenyatta, though he was more dignified in stance and bearing. His dot tattoos were arranged in the shape of a square turned on its corner.

“Welcome, sons of Fire Lord Sojiro,” the man greeted them, attracting Hanzo’s attention for the first time. He chuckled quietly. “Forgive me for startling you, your highness.”

“Do you know him?” Genji whispered.

“Not personally,” Hanzo replied, “he is Avatar Mondatta.”

            “Your education is very thorough if you have the knowledge to identify me on sight,” the airbender noted, having overheard them despite the whispering.

            “Aren’t you supposed to be dead?” Genji asked in genuine curiosity, before recoiling, “are _we_ dead!?”

            The avatar laughed again, shaking his head. “You are very much alive, as is your friend Zenyatta,” he assured them, answering Genji’s next question before he could ask it.

            “Then how are we in your presence?” Hanzo demanded, clearly not entirely convinced they were safe, “is this the spirit world?”

            “This is a realm between,” Mondatta replied calmly despite Hanzo’s tone, “you may think of it as a room with a glass door that is always locked. You might catch glimpses of the world beyond the glass, but only the avatar may use the key and enter. The spirits have allowed me to create this place so Tekhartha Zenyatta could develop his gift, and eventually bring you to speak with me.” He disappeared in a swirl of mist, then reappeared beside the frozen monk to gently place the tips of his fingers on his head, causing the blue glow of his tattoos to grow more intense for the brief moment the two air nomads made contact. “He is the most talented of the Shambali,” he went on, “the one touched by Raava.”

            “Why?” Genji asked simply, looking between Mondatta and the equally perplexed Hanzo.

            “And how did he know to bring us here?” his brother added, “I am not fond of being deceived.”

            “He was unaware of my guidance, as were you, Prince Genji,” the avatar replied. Genji remembered his visions, and how they were the reason he’d wanted Hanzo to meditate with him. He didn’t know if he felt special or violated…maybe a little of both. “I have wanted to speak to you directly, but my situation has prevented it,” Mondatta explained, “with Raava’s tie to the physical world severed and her power fading my own abilities have been hindered, even in the spirit world. I needed the most talented of my disciples to enable me.”

He appeared closer to them, facing them at a more casually conversational distance. “As for why…because the fate of both worlds is in question. As is learned in the study of waterbending, everything must exist in a state of harmony, achieved by the presence of opposing forces. Just as light exists because of the dark, Raava exists because of Vaatu.”

            “I have heard of neither,” Hanzo stated, his eyes slightly narrowed.

            “Of course; my apologies…Raava is the spirit of light and peace, the spirit that became what you would know as the Avatar Spirit by fusing with a human agent in the physical world,” Mondatta explained, holding a hand out to his left side, where a glowing blue light appeared. Slowly, it took the shape of a creature that looked like a mixture of a ray, fish and serpent. Its presence filled Genji’s mind and soul with warmth, temporarily easing all of his worries…every worry.

Then, the avatar held out his other hand and another creature appeared, one that seemed to be created from emptiness itself, a shape that was a void, emanating no light at all. Its presence seemed to sap away the first’s influence, causing him to feel as he had before. He realized he actually missed the worry, the thing that helped to keep him from danger. That realization alone was enough to help him understand what Mondatta was trying to tell them about the relationship between the two spirits before he had to vocalize his description of it.

“Vaatu is her contrast,” Mondatta continued, “he is the spirit of chaos and darkness. They are in constant battle, and through the continuation of this battle harmony is maintained…but the battle has changed. By binding herself and creating the avatar Raava gained influence in the world of humanity, but she also created a weakness, one that has already been used against her. With the Avatar Cycle broken Raava is weak, and Vaatu only becomes stronger. You have already seen the consequences in unchecked war and hatred in your world…the spirits have noticed it in there’s as well, but the worst is yet to come.”

“Slow down,” Hanzo ordered severely, shaking his head incredulously, “why have you brought this to us, of all people in our world? We are not avatars. We are descendants of a line of warlords, one that has on its own caused generations of ‘war and hatred’.”

Genji reached over to place a hand on Hanzo’s shoulder, sensing he was becoming overwhelmed by the information being fed to him. “We can change that,” he stated calmly.

Mondatta smiled, nodding once. “That is what I have counted on,” he agreed, “I apologize if I have spoken too quickly, but my time is short. If you will indulge me further…”

Hanzo nodded back, warily.

The avatar took it as his consent, resuming his explanation, “you are two young men blessed with enormous power and influence. You are in the position to lead the world toward a lasting peace, and above all you have the desire to be more than what your ancestors have chosen to be. The other leaders of this world have closed their minds to alternate courses and I could sense they would not hear what I had to say. I had one chance to speak to someone of your world and you, sons of Sojiro, were my surest gamble.”

The avatar allowed the two spirit images he’d produced to fade away. “You must allow Raava’s power to grow by hindering that of Vaatu. Only when the time is right will the way be open for Raava to choose a new agent, and the Avatar Cycle must be restored before eighty-five years have passed or both worlds will be consumed by chaos.” He chuckled quietly, shrugging one shoulder. “I realize what I say must sound impossibly outlandish to you. Years living among the spirits has changed my perception and understanding. Is there anything I must clarify?”

“How about everything?” Genji only half-joked, feeling a bit overwhelmed himself, “you are asking a lot from two people who don’t even have their throne anymore. Our power and influence has been stolen, and even if it hadn’t the world has no reason to listen to us.”

“Then it must be made to listen,” Hanzo muttered, his tone dire.

“I would not have chosen such harsh words…but you are fundamentally correct, your highness,” Mondatta agreed, “the task I set before you is not easy, and may not always be achieved through peace alone. You mustn’t become predators, but you cannot afford to be prey. I can only hope Zenyatta’s guidance and that of your many allies who await you in the physical world will help you to achieve balance. Speak too quietly or too loudly and you will not be heard.”

“But why the time limit?” Genji asked.

“It is not frivolous, if that is what you suspect,” the airbender replied grimly, “it is a phenomenon that occurs regularly, the amplification of spirit energy caused by the alignment of cosmic bodies. The Harmonic Convergence. A true understanding of its nature would take more time to explain than we have…what you need to know is that this phenomenon will give Vaatu the chance to engulf all of existence in his darkness, and the avatar is needed to stop it. Raava can find a new agent, but only if she is strong enough on the anniversary of my death, during the spring of every year between then and now.”

“There must be time to train the new avatar, as well,” Genji assumed.

“An astute observation. To be honest, I am surprised you are both so willing to believe something many others would discount as pure fantasy.”

Hanzo scoffed out a humorless chuckle. “I do not speak for my brother, but I have seen many things I once thought impossible since leaving my home. The criterion for what I find believable has been expanded.”

Genji nodded his agreement, figuring they were both a little too far down the rabbit hole to complain, the dead avatar’s presence alone suspending his disbelief. “But how do we even begin?” he asked, eager to begin thinking of their next course, “how does one simply…restore balance?”

“One step at a time, beginning with your own nation. The four nations exist to balance one another, and the failure of one will lead to the failure of all. Remember foremost: balance is key.”

“Restore the Fire Throne,” Genji concluded, to which Mondatta nodded his affirmative.

“We already knew we needed to retake the palace,” Hanzo pointed out, “what we do not know is if we have the ability to do so.”

“Are you too modest to ask me outright?”

Genji glanced over at his brother, trying to figure out what Mondatta seemed to already know. He didn’t know exactly what Hanzo already had at his disposal before he’d asked for his help, and he’d been meaning to ask Jesse how he’d been caught up in everything, as well as who the others were. It seemed a group meeting was long overdue.

“Are you able to restore my bending?” Hanzo asked, proving he was not too modest, “I cannot begin to imagine accomplishing any of what you ask of us without it.” Genji figured he probably should have seen that answer coming.

Mondatta nodded slowly, pleased. “You must be fire lord in all meanings of the title. I can provide only a spark from my power…you must build it to a blaze with your own.” The avatar vanished again, then blinked into existence right in front of Hanzo. He stretched his hand out and pressed the pad of all five fingers to Hanzo’s brow.

            Genji’s eyes flew open and he saw Angela on her knee leaning over him, concern all over her features. He knew he’d missed something, some step between seeing Mondatta touch Hanzo and waking up with her. Had what the avatar did sapped the last of his power in the realm between and banished them from it instantly? His thoughts immediately shifted to his friend.

            “Is Zenyatta alright?” he asked quietly.

            Angela’s eyebrow peaked. “Yes, but that wouldn’t have been my first question. You and your brother are the ones who’ve been unconscious for the past four hours.”

Zenyatta was nearby, coming closer when he saw he’d awakened. “Are you well, Genji?” the monk asked, “I was concerned that I’d done something terribly wrong.”

The waterbender helped him sit up, slowly when he was overtaken by dizziness. “What happened to you?”

            Genji rubbed his eyes groggily and looked around to find Hanzo, just in time to see him sitting up while Commander Morrison hovered over him protectively. His brother met his gaze and they seemed to share their knowledge of the events before, confirming that they had not simply hallucinated the entire experience. He could see most of the others were watching them curiously, though they were thankfully keeping their distance to avoid a crowd. McCree’s eyes seemed weirdly fixated on Hanzo, at least until he looked back, the earthbender’s immediate reaction being to look away.

            They were back in Master Ana’s hut and the dimness of the light cast by the small fire pit suggested it was night again. It hadn’t felt to him like four hours had passed, and he didn’t know if that four hours had begun as soon as they began meditating or right after the image of the realm between vanished. Had Zenyatta been conscious and moving the entire time he’d looked frozen to them? He feared these were wonderings that would never be answered, mysteries he’d have to accept as unsolved.

            “Genji?” Angela asked again.

            Genji wanted to answer her, but wasn’t sure what to say yet. There was one thing that had yet to be determined. Again, he looked toward his brother. Hanzo leaned himself against the wall closest to him and brought both hands up to hold them in front of his chest as if cupping an invisible bowl. He took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh, then took another as he steadied his breathing. Genji’s heart pounded anxiously as he waited.

            After what felt like an eternity a tiny flame puffed into existence between Hanzo’s palms.

            Genji grinned wide and he looked back at Angela. “We have a lot of work to do.”


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

As one group, the combined parties of the two brothers started on their way toward Ba Sing Se. It’d been Hanzo’s intention to confront the Earth King as soon as he’d learned the Dai Li were the ones hunting them in Omashu, but it had always been a plan on the back burner as long as he and his group lacked the power to back up their stance. It was unlikely the king would simply let them walk into his well-guarded, nigh impenetrable palace to accuse him of breaking their treaty. With the addition of several new talented members and the return of his own bending, their chances went from abysmal to highly unlikely.

At least, it’d seemed that way at first. He’d noticed instantly that his power wasn’t anywhere near the level it’d been before the witch had cursed him, and had simply thought of it as a kind of atrophy, having been unable to use his bending at all for so long. After several hours of practice it’d started to become obvious it would take some serious work to rebuild. He worked nightly a short distance away from camp and the others, unwilling to let it be too obvious, especially to Genji or McCree, though for slightly different reasons.

Just as he’d done for the last five nights, Hanzo made his way past where Iris and the ostrich horses were fast asleep before taking his stance, facing the side of a boulder. The position was familiar and easy to him, as always, but it seemed all he’d learned when it came to actually firebending remained foreign to him. In time it would change, he kept telling himself, but his frustration was building with every failed attempt. It certainly didn’t help knowing they were getting closer to the city every day. He could say something, slow them down or convince them to take a short break…but he didn’t want to be seen as the weakest link. Hard work was the key. It was always the key.

Hanzo concentrated, searching for the faint warmth inside him so he could draw it out again. It had to be stronger than it was last night after he’d tried for hours to bring out his true flame, though it hadn’t seemed like it’d changed at all. It had to be his frustration coloring his perception of the results…but of course there was always the chance it wasn’t.

He tried a basic punch in the boulder’s direction to start out, as usual. And, as usual, the result was an underwhelming puff of flame that quickly extinguished itself with a pitiful sizzle and a tiny wisp of smoke. Why!?

He punched, again, then again, faster and faster, trying to tap into his old, familiar fury. Why had the power of the dragon abandoned him? In the face of his repeated, humiliating failure he found himself thinking of his father. How disappointed he would have been to see his heir so powerless and pathetic. He still remembered the one time he’d lost to Genji in a mock duel…how outraged the fire lord had been. He’d been half convinced the man would end his life that day. He shuddered to think of it. It was as if Sojiro’s critical gaze was on him, then. He didn’t dare throw another insufficient flame, frozen in fear.

It was his last chance. He couldn’t afford to pace himself anymore; he would use all of his energy if he had to. Just one sizeable burst would make it worth the effort, tear the memory of his father’s observation off his shoulders and throw it into the past where it belonged. He focused inward, pulling as much as he could from his near empty reserves. He didn’t feel ready, but he’d taken as much as he could find. In one last effort he thrust his open palm outward to release his gathered energy. The result was another crushing failure.

 Winded, Hanzo fell back against the side of the rock to slide down and sit. He rested his head on the hard surface, tempted to hit it against it if it would only jog whatever memory he had yet to recover. There had to be a step he was missing, something he was doing wrong, but what?

“I remember that look.”

Hanzo sighed through his nostrils and pivoted his head to look over at Genji, who sat cross-legged on another rock in the clearing. He’d been too preoccupied with the past to notice when he’d arrived or how much he’d seen, but he must have at least seen that last try. How humiliating.

 “The…” he began slowly, searching for something he could say in his defense as he spoke, “avatar said I would need to work to rebuild my abilities. It will come with time.”

Genji smiled, but it wasn’t the sort of mocking smirk Hanzo had been expecting him to make. “You don’t need to hide it from me, Brother,” he said kindly, “I’ve seen you practicing. You seem…stuck.”

Hanzo sighed again, looking away while he stood up. He was still breathing heavily, and had no intention of trying again while his brother watched, but he also didn’t want to sit there discussing the obvious to no end.

“I was stuck, too,” Genji went on, “I would practice every day and never improve.”

“You sound as if the problem is in the past for you. How did you solve it?”

“There was disharmony in my spirit, one Zenyatta was able to point out to me.” The prince laughed, shrugging one shoulder. “At first I wouldn’t listen, but now…”

“Now?”

Genji pushed himself off the rock, hopping to his feet. Hanzo knew it was just his bitterness at being powerless, but he decided he looked thoroughly too happy. The prince came to stand near him, facing the boulder, before he drew his sword.

“I thought you were speaking of your firebending skill, Genji,” Hanzo muttered, annoyed.

“Why should I fight against what I’m good at when I could use it to become better at something else?”

Hanzo decided to try saving his judgment toward that attitude until after Genji had shown him what he meant. The prince bent his knees and pulled his sword back, his empty hand in front of him with the pads of the two last fingers against his palm, his expression focused, yet calm. He was undoubtedly different from the immature child their father used to dislike so much. Hanzo was unsure if he liked the change, or if the way Genji used to be only annoyed him for the fire lord’s sake. His brother didn’t even know all that he’d done. How would he feel about it? Would he be appalled, or flattered that it’d been done for him? Maybe both…but regardless of the risk in it he knew he’d need to tell him eventually.

Genji leapt into action with such speed Hanzo felt as if he’d missed something while caught in his contemplation. The blade of his sword glowed orange as a stream of flame swirled around it from the hilt toward the tip, eventually transforming into a slender serpent of a dragon. The creature of flame whirled around, following the blade, as Genji whipped it toward the boulder. The dragon and the blade sliced through the solid rock like a knife through melting butter, leaving the edges of the cut clean.

“What did you do!?” Hanzo hissed in disbelief. Even at the peak of his power he’d never been capable of something quite so precisely destructive, and to think his irresponsible little brother could do it first! Something he’d been doing had obviously worked out for him.

“I resolved the disharmony in my spirit,” Genji replied, pulling his dragon back as he twirled his sword around and back into its sheath, “actually, I wasn’t entirely sure it would work. I’ve discovered recently that my potential as a bender far exceeds what I thought it could ever be, now that I am at peace with myself.”

“What was your disharmony?” Hanzo asked in genuine interest for the first time. It was clear to him he’d severely underestimated Genji, and his friend Zenyatta by extension.

Genji turned his head to look at him, his expression very serious. “Part of me wanted to forgive you, but the other part of me wanted to kill you.”

“I see…”

“I realized we are stronger together and left that part of me in the past,” the prince continued. He paused, putting on a familiar smile. “Besides, you will always be my favorite brother.”

Hanzo allowed himself to smile, too, even chuckling a little. “I thank you for trying to help me,” he murmured, “but that sort of disharmony is not my problem; I have no desire to try killing you again.”

“It’s unlikely your spirit would want the same thing mine did,” Genji replied, shrugging, “Zenyatta could show you, if you’re willing to try meditating with him again.”

Hanzo grimaced at that, folding his arms. “I am not eager to be given another impossible quest by a dead avatar before I’ve had the chance to complete the first.”

Genji put his fists on his hips and laughed. “I can understand that,” he chuckled out, shaking his head, “but, seriously, for a long time I tried to pretend I knew what I wanted and needed to do. It was plain to my companions that there was a conflict in me, as hard as I tried to conceal it. If you are honest with yourself, I’m sure you already know where your own conflict lies.”

Hanzo sighed, looking over toward the broken boulder. He knew he had conflicts…many conflicts. Resolving even one of them sounded daunting enough, but it was something he’d already thought about. “Eventually” was what he’d told himself…but “eventually” could easily be “now”. He looked back at Genji. “I do have a conflict in me,” he admitted, “but I cannot be the one to resolve it.”

“Why not?”

“Because it is not my decision to make. I have wronged many people…but in this case I have wronged someone unforgivably, and this person is unaware of what I’ve done.” He found his gaze lowering unconsciously until it’d settled on the ground. “Everyone is unaware of it.”

“If keeping this secret has cut as deep as your spirit, you must tell someone,” Genji insisted, “what could be stopping you?”

“This person has only just returned to my life,” Hanzo replied, looking back up at him. The way Genji’s eyebrows moved suggested he knew who he was talking about.

“What did you do, Hanzo?”

Hanzo took in a long, silent breath and huffed it out in a sigh. Now, it was. “I am the one who assassinated our father.”

Genji’s eyes widened even further than they’d already been. Obviously, it wasn’t the answer he’d been expecting when he realized Hanzo was keeping secrets from him. “Wh—“ he breathed, glancing off to the side to think, “father? Why!?”

“He seemed almost happy with how things had turned out,” Hanzo replied, trying to keep his tone level. He still wasn’t entirely sure he regretted it, though he knew he was worried whether or not Genji felt the same. “I believed he dishonored your memory so I challenged him.”

Given that Sojiro was always the most powerful firebender either of them had ever known, Genji’s response to that was predictable: “you’re insane.” He paused, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t tell me you actually won.”

“Of course not,” Hanzo snorted, rolling his eyes, “as the customs say, the matter should have been settled in his favor with our Agni Kai.” He pushed back his left sleeve just a little to reveal the long scar that swirled from the base of his wrist to the top of his shoulder, then let it fall back down again. “But I was dissatisfied.”

“So you _killed_ him!?”

“Not at first. I tried to reason with him, but he shamed me for arguing against the outcome of our honorable duel. I decided…I would rather bear the dishonor in secret than allow him to continue dishonoring someone who was unable to fight for himself…someone who did not deserve it.”

Genji nodded slowly, folding his arms over his chest while he contemplated. Hanzo waited in silence, feeling somewhat indifferent about how Genji would respond. He knew his brother didn’t care for their father, a condition the fire lord had caused first with his own disdain. He realized, then, he’d used it as an excuse. He knew where the real disharmony in his spirit lied. It was obvious, the core reason for his enduring unhappiness. His father’s death hadn’t resolved it, and never would. His gaze drifted toward camp.

“I cannot say I am sad…but I wish it wasn’t so,” Genji replied, at last, “it wouldn’t feel right to hold it against you, either. Truthfully, I wanted to kill him just as much as I wanted to kill you, and it would have been much harder to forgive him. Do you forgive yourself?”

“My only regret is that Akande would not have acted while Father was alive,” Hanzo replied truthfully. Genji sighed, and it seemed he knew the same thing Hanzo had just realized.

“Then that can’t be the source of conflict in your spirit, Brother,” he said, confirming it, “besides, Commander Morrison said he thinks Master Akande had been planning this all along. You don’t know Father’s death helped him at all. Clearly, you are carrying shame, but there’s no good reason for that, either. Holding yourself responsible for ‘ifs’ and ‘would haves’ will make you your own prisoner for the rest of your life, and that’s just stupid.”

Hanzo chuckled quietly. “You’ve become wiser since being out here.”

“Borrowed wisdom, for the most part,” Genji replied, shrugging a little, “from Zenyatta, actually. I really think you need to meditate with him if that was the only conflict you could think of.”

Hanzo grunted in annoyance and turned away from him to take his training stance. “It is not…but I would prefer to leave it at that.”

“ _Why_?”

“Because it is impossible to resolve. I must keep practicing if I wish to improve.”

“Hanzo—“

“It is impossible.”

Genji sighed loudly and folded his arms, looking away in his annoyance. Hanzo still had no intention of telling him about the unordinary relationship between him and the only person he truly cared for beside his brother. It was unfortunate enough that he’d lost that friendship…but he felt as if he’d lost something more than that.

“Fine,” Genji grunted, “if you’re not going to let me help you…will you at least allow me to train with you?”

“Not if you plan on laughing.”

The prince’s lips twisted in amusement, the result of holding back a chuckle already. “Laugh? At your misfortune? What kind of person do you think I am?”

“Do you want me to answer that?” Hanzo replied, glancing over at him with a little smirk on his face.

Genji scoffed, rolling his eyes. “No. No, I don’t.”

\---

Angela was drawn to the clearing where Genji and his brother were practicing by the occasional burst of light. Not wanting to intrude on their privacy, she settled for watching from a distance. The brothers were clearly very serious about their techniques, though the fire lord seemed to be struggling. It was a big step from being entirely incapable of firebending, as she’d heard he had been, but she’d never seen such weak bending. Given their mission, the odds seemed entirely against them.

They’d claimed to have been warned of impending doom from the spirit world, something Genji had been thoroughly forthcoming about despite his brother’s initial desire to keep it to themselves. She could hardly blame him; it sounded completely ridiculous, but Genji wasn’t the kind of man to make something like that up, and from what she’d seen of Hanzo he would have been the most skeptical of them all. The others had seemed to share her thoughts on it.

Avatar mission or not, they were on their way to Ba Sing Se at the fire lord’s behest, though they had yet to discuss what, exactly, they would do once they arrived. She’d been assured Hanzo’s companions, the royal guard commander and Jesse’s “Pa”, were working on a plan of action, and she didn’t have reason to doubt them yet. It all seemed so far above her. Never in her most creative dreams would she have imagined she would be involved in the affairs of royals and former avatars. So many things were changing, and she could only hope she was up to the challenge.

Jesse, oddly, seemed to have changed the most since they first met him in Omashu. His manner of speaking had retained its oddly charming quality, but there seemed to be less energy in him. He was especially quiet when they were all together in camp, though she would have expected him to be a big part of the mostly friendly chatter around the fire. He was upset about something, and as sad as it made her to see, she hardly felt qualified to help him with it. She was a healer of the body, not the mind or emotions.

The prince had also changed a lot since the day he and the fire lord had been recovered from their kidnapping. He was still funny, and still kind, but the boiling anger she’d always seen in him had faded away to be replaced by a happy sort of calm. She could tell he was glad to be reunited with his brother, the man he was determined to murder not so long ago. Zenyatta had tried so many times to ease the disquiet in his soul that she’d believed he would never succeed. Patience had won out, and she was honestly displeased with her own lack of it. The unexpected serenity in Genji’s new demeanor made him that much more handsome, but she’d already ended things between them and he’d been so disappointed. She supposed she would need to apologize…

She waited until the firebenders were done practicing to start toward them in the open, smiling with her hands clasped behind her back to project a disarming impression, just in case. When Genji spotted her, a big grin lit his face up in an instant, much to her surprise. Promising to practice with his brother again, the prince left his side and trotted over to her. “Angela!”

Angela felt her cheeks flush a little in embarrassment at the thought of either of them realizing she’d been watching them. “I was just—“

Genji stopped in front of her and placed the thumb of one hand against the palm of the other to give her a respectful Fire Nation bow. “I must apologize to you,” he stated.

Surprised, Angela glanced between him and his brother, who raised one eyebrow at Genji’s gesture, then went on his way back to camp, disinterested. She wasn’t sure she liked him. Pursing her lips, she looked back at the prince. “For what?”

Genji straightened and folded his arms. “For getting angry when you rejected my advance,” he replied, laughing, “you were right about me, and it would have been unfair for you to tie yourself to someone with such a destructive heart.”

Angela found herself smiling like an idiot, as shocked as she was. “I’ve…never had a man apologize to me for something like that before,” she admitted, “I’m not entirely sure how to react.”

“Really?”

“Yes…it’s very refreshing, especially coming from someone who didn’t know how to apologize when we first met.” She laughed, prompting him to chuckle along.

“I like to think I have grown since then.”

Angela smiled warmly, pulling her hands from behind her back to pick at one of her fingernails while trying to think of how to proceed. “You certainly have. You seem…much happier.”

Genji shrugged, reaching back to scratch the back of his neck. “I am.” He let a heavy breath out through his nose and puts his hands to his hips. “I think I am at peace with myself, for once. It was all so simple, once I pulled my head out of my own ass.”

Angela stopped herself from laughing at his language choice. “It’s not the way I would have put it, but I agree…it’s, ah” she paused, wondering if she should take the risk. She would. “It’s becoming.”

Genji’s sheepish smile in response gave her some hope. It wasn’t a negative reaction…just a bashful one. “Ah, thank you,” he breathed quietly. They both stopped there, awkwardly.

Blushing, the waterbender cleared her throat. “I did not…expect you and your brother to get along so well,” she mused, hoping to push the conversation onward to her next opportunity, “from what I’ve seen and heard of him he seems, well…difficult.”

“He wasn’t always,” the prince murmured after glancing backward to find something to lean against. Locating a tree, he backed against it. “When we were younger we were inseparable, always teasing and competing with each other. I think he’s finally coming back.”

“Where did he go?”

“Father was tough with him during the past five years,” Genji explained, shrugging one shoulder, “I think he didn’t like my influence on him, pulling him along with me when I broke rules and sassed our tutors. He, uh…wanted to keep a distance between us, I think.”

“That’s terrible…”

“Yes, but I’m just as stubborn as Hanzo is. I’ll pry his shell open and scratch him out of it if I have to.”

Violent as that sounded, Angela guessed it was at least well-meaning. “Well, uhm…good luck,” she replied.

Genji grinned. “Thanks.”

Worried the conversation was coming to an end, Angela realized she would have to push it in the right direction deliberately. “Genji, may I ask you something?”

“Go on.”

Gathering her courage, Angela took a step closer, then swept in to peck him on the lips. Pulling back quickly, she giggled bashfully at Genji’s flushed cheeks. “Is that alright?” she whispered. She tried to make her smile more mischievous though her heart was pounding anxiously.

Genji pulled himself off the tree and grabbed hold of her hand. “It’s more than alright,” he murmured, “but I think we could do better.”

Angela giggled again. “Agreed.”

Both leaning in toward the other, they touched their lips together tenderly. She allowed him to pull her closer and wrap his arms around her while her heart did excited somersaults in her chest. She could feel his excitement, too, though all contact he made with her remained gentle and polite. She knew the degree of passion he was capable of from his previous expressions of anger and happiness, but he seemed so restrained…so respectful. Silently praising her good fortune in finding him, she hugged him tighter, giving him permission to embrace her fully.

The future seemed vastly different compared to her own plans for her life. As scary as it had to be, she found she was looking forward to the adventure.


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once again, sorry for the hiatus. Moved twice, got a new job...lots of stuff going on. I am going to finish this, though. That's a promise to me and to you.

The vast, towering wall of Ba Sing Se was imposing, even from a distance. Jesse ran his eyes along its length, pondering how they would get in if they were denied permission to enter, which seemed most likely. The others had come to the same conclusion, several of them throwing ideas around while he and his pa watched the guards’ routes. While Gabe had never been inside the city himself, he knew the wall had never been breached. Under wasn’t an option, over wasn’t an option, and sneaking in wasn’t an option, all ideas he responded to with a doubtful grunt. Jesse wasn’t paying much attention to the brainstorming session, distracted by his own efforts to avoid thinking about someone he knew he’d be better off without by staring absent-mindedly at the city stretched out in front of them.

“Is it not possible for Jesse to make an opening for us? The wall is clearly made of stone.”

His name catching his attention, Jesse looked back at the person who spoke. Angela was a kind woman, and turned out to be a skilled waterbender, but she was still naïve. It was sweet, but he was glad they had more experienced people in the group to keep her out of serious trouble.

Gabe answered for him: “this wall wasn’t built just to keep foreign invaders out. It’s guarded by earthbender soldiers, and not the idiots we’ve been fighting on the road. They’re smart, trained to sense disturbances in the wall’s integrity. We’d be detected and encased in stone before we could take a set one toe on the other side.”

There was a moment of silence as each member of the group seemed to be losing hope. They’d come a long way…but it appeared the path wasn’t open to them any longer, no matter how much they were willing to fight their way through.

“Unless we give them something else to detect,” Genji spoke up, the joy of hatching a plan clear on his face. All eyes turned on him, some incredulous and others carefully optimistic. Only Gabe was still watching the guards, his opinion about it indiscernible.

“A diversion?” Jack asked, folding his arms, “it’s a pretty obvious plan. It would have to be a big one to give us a real opening, one they can’t afford to ignore.”

“And the one responsible for it would be left outside to be apprehended,” Hanzo added, his frown deepening.

“Not if we send the right person,” Genji argued, “I could do it. I can get over the wall; surely that would be enough to draw their attention.”

“Out of the question!” his brother hissed. Jesse glanced over at him out of the corner of his eye, but refused to look directly at him. He knew Hanzo loved Genji, that he was sorry for hurting him and didn’t want any additional harm to come to him but…no, he needed more time to think.

“You _know_ how slippery I can be!” the prince hissed back, “if Father’s guards couldn’t catch me sneaking in and out of the palace—“

“This is different, Genji! You do not know this city or its people. I will not allow this.”

“I don’t need you to allow it, Hanzo.” The look on Genji’s face was shockingly grim, his tone severe. “If we do not enter the city and find an explanation for the Earth King’s treachery, and then deal with it, we might as well hand our world to the forces of chaos.”

“Genji, what if something happens and you can’t rejoin us?” Angela broke in when Hanzo didn’t reply, “there must be a less dangerous way.”

“No, the kid’s right,” Gabe interjected, sighing as he stood up and turned to face them, “if he really thinks he can get over the wall, that’d be enough of a security breach to draw a whole segment of the wall’s guards to him. It’ll work even better with two of us.”

Jesse let a long sigh out through his nose. “I could—“

“Like hell you could,” his father interrupted him, “you’re tunneling the rest of ‘em in through the wall when you have the chance. _I’m_ going.”

“Hold on!” Jack exclaimed forcefully, the authority in his commander’s voice stopping them all in an instant. “We’re best as a team, and we need our full force if we’re going to stand a chance against the palace guard. We don’t need to sacrifice our unity by rushing into a hasty plan.”

“C’mon, Jack,” Gabe grunted back, “you know there isn’t another option. Risky as it is, it’s all we have.” He took a step closer to him, almost creating an intimate zone around them. “You know I can handle myself,” he whispered.

“Gabriel…” Ana murmured from the sidelines, raising an eyebrow at him.

Gabe grunted, backing off a little. “Don’t forget your duty,” he stated soberly. Jack squared his jaw in frustration, but didn’t argue. Folding his arms even tighter, he nodded reluctantly. “Keep an eye on the ingrate while I’m out,” Gabe added, addressing Ana this time, “he’s a pain in the ass.”

Jesse stopped her from responding: “now wait a goddamn second, Pa! You think you can just run off n’ get yerself killed on me?”

“Jesse.”

“ _Yeah_?”

“Shut up.”

Jesse’s rage and indignation only grew at that, but he didn’t have much time to think of a good response before the conversation moved on.

“Where do we find you two once we’re inside?” Jack growled.

“The area just inside the outer wall is a bunch of farms and small villages,” the blacksmith explained, “I don’t know the exact layout, but I say we head past the farms to the slum town just outside the inner wall’s main gate and find an inn to lay low in until it all blows over.”

“A city as big as Ba Sing Se will have more than one inn, even if it is only a small part of the outer circle,” Ana pointed out.

“All the better,” Reinhardt muttered, deliberately keeping his naturally loud voice low, “it would be best for our group to split up among two or three, to avoid detection, correct?”

“Good idea,” Jack agreed, “and we’ll need to shuffle things up.” He gestured at Hanzo and Angela respectively. “You two with me, Reinhardt and Zenyatta as the second group, Ana and Jesse, the third. Genji can meet up with Ana’s group, if necessary, and Gabe with Reinhardt’s. Anyone have a problem with that?”

“H-hold on a sec—“ Jesse sputtered, whirling from how fast things were being decided without his input.

“Sounds good to me,” Gabe replied, either without hearing Jesse or choosing to ignore him, “unless _his majesty_ objects?”

Hanzo grunted in annoyance, folding his arms. “During my last visit to this city I was seven years old,” he replied, his dignified aire still intact despite Gabe’s derisive tone, “I will defer to those more experienced.”

“Well, that’s refreshing.”

“I said hold on!” Jesse exclaimed, “you really think this a good idea?”

“We do not have time to debate for much longer,” Ana reminded him, “that is, unless we want Genji’s firebending to stand out so much in the dark he will be unable to escape using it.”

“Yes, it would be best if we acted quickly,” Angela agreed upon hearing the very valid point.

“Then we have a plan.” Turning away to signal he intended that to be the last word on the debate, Gabe started toward the city, gesturing back at Genji to follow him. “Let’s get a move on.” Genji’s eyebrows rose at that, but he looked back at Jesse and shrugged before following him down the hill.

“Godspeed, my friends,” Reinhardt rumbled, placing the thumb of one fist to the other palm in a Fire Nation sign of respect.

“They will be alright,” Zenyatta hummed, his first contribution to the conversation, “we must have faith in their abilities.” Jesse had almost forgotten he was there…and as wise as he knew he was, it wasn’t as if the monk knew anything meaningful about his pa. Gabe wasn’t a joke when it came to fighting, but last he checked he couldn’t scale mountain-high walls.

“He didn’t even say what _his_ plan was,” Jesse argued, though Ana stopped him from following them with a firm hand on his bicep. He looked over at Jack incredulously. “Yer really okay with this? N’ you say ya love him!?”

“That’s enough, Jesse,” the commander stated in that authoritative tone.

“Yer full o’ shit!”

 “ _Jesse_ ,” Ana chided him, “you have made your feelings clear, and now you have other things to think about. Focus.”

As indignant as he felt, he knew better than to try arguing with her, and Jack seemed unaffected by his attempt to call him out, refusing to dignify it with even a hurt look. The rest of the group was looking on in awkward silence, as if they weren’t going to say or do anything to stop the two from handing themselves to the enemy. His own pa. Did no one care?

Once his furious gaze had wandered over to Hanzo, he forced himself to turn away and storm off toward the city, choosing a slightly different angle of approach than Genji and Gabe had. “You comin’?” he growled through his teeth without looking back at the rest of them. He wasn’t going to fight his way to his pa’s side, and he knew he couldn’t drag him back with anything short of his full bending power, stubborn as the asshole was. Given that, he couldn’t waste Gabe’s efforts by holding the group back, arguing against something he no longer had the option to change. It’d better work.

\---

Genji approached the base of the wall by carefully dashing to and from the cover of sparse bushes, spindly trees, rocks, and deep enough depressions in the sand.  The closer he got, the more daunting the wall was, the shadow of it eclipsing him long before he was within a stone’s throw of its smooth surface. He paused briefly and looked back to check on his unlikely partner’s progress, but couldn’t locate him. That was worrisome, to say the least.

“Master Reyes?” he whispered as loudly as he dared, the words coming out a little awkwardly. He’d barely spoken two words to him during their journey, and had never had to refer to him as anything other than McCree’s father. Was “Master” the right word? Well, it was too late to take it back if it wasn’t.

“Better keep up,” the man growled from somewhere behind him, drawing his attention back toward the wall. There he was, crouching at the base of it, having somehow beaten him there. He doubted he could’ve ever seen that one coming. Glancing up cautiously to start, Genji dashed out from under his shrub and over to Reyes’s side. He pressed his back against the surface of the wall to minimize his profile, looking up again.

“I have an idea on how to climb…but it will require my bending and I do not think I can carry you,” he murmured, looking down again to meet his gaze, “at least, not for that length of time.”

“I’ll find my own way up,” Reye replied, placing a hand against the wall’s surface. Genji watched him draw in a deep breath and let it out in a decisive huff. “Go on ahead,” he whispered, “I’ll start a few feet to the left, split their focus.”

“Start _what_?” the prince grunted dubiously.

“The fight,” the blacksmith replied with a little bit of snort in his tone, “get going; the others will be ready soon.” With that, he started walking.

Genji pursed his lips, sparing just a second or two to think of how he was going to “find his own way”. He couldn’t think of anything…but he knew the longer he delayed trying to assure himself he could count on Reyes’s support, the more time the guards had to spot Hanzo’s group. He didn’t know the man well, but nothing he’d seen suggested he was an idiot. Of course, there was always a first time for everything. Sighing quietly, he turned around to face the wall.

Genji channeled his chi into the balls of his feet, maintaining it within him in small concentrations to be used one at a time. He pulled out two small knives he’d curved into claws with his firebending in anticipation of a climb, holding one in each hand. He’d climbed walls using his bending before, but never so high. With its surface so clear of blemishes, his bending and the blades alone would be stopping him from plummeting to the ground again. He didn’t know if the climb or the fight would be more difficult part, but the challenge was enticing, and failure wasn’t an option. At the very least, he had to give the rest of the group enough time to get inside before he was captured.

Pausing just long enough to feel the presence of his inner dragon at his back, he burst himself upward and whacked the blades into the surface of the stone, using them to guide his climb. As soon as he’d reached the apex of his upward momentum, he projected himself higher still with another blast of flame from his feet, using the claws to maintain his proximity to the wall once again. He worked rapidly in a regular, calculated cycle of blasting and correcting, refusing to pause long enough to realize he was tiring.

His knives’ contact with the stone of the wall brief and minimal, he’d made it three quarters of the way up before he heard a shout of alarm. He dug one of his knives deep into the wall and allowed his grip on it to swing his body to the side just as a boulder flew down past him to slam into the ground below with a solid thud.

Swinging his feet backward, he planted them solidly against the surface of the wall and used a great burst to throw himself upward and outward. Flying through the air, his feet flung up over his head just as he reached the level of the wall’s top. He could see the expression on the closest of the earthbender guards, one of surprise, as their gazes met for a second that felt suspended in time, the sensation of flying so surreal in the moment.

“Firebender!” the man cried.

Kicking as if he were swimming in midair, he launched himself toward the guard with another strong blast and collided with him against the stone surface of the battlements, his heart racing.

Deeply relieved to have landed on something solid, Genji rolled to a crouch and pocketed the claw knife he’d been holding in his sword hand, leaving the man he’d leveled unconscious behind him. He swung his sword out of its sheath and twisted, using the flat of the blade to knock a flying rock away from his center before speeding toward the man who’d thrown it. He returned the attack with an airborne kick, sending fire gushing toward him, just enough to make him dodge and lose his focus.

He whipped around to intercept the blade of a halberd with his sword and rammed his knee forward to knock the man back just in time to duck under another earthbending attack. The rock whizzed over his head and rammed the spearman in the chest, knocking him out cold beside the first guard he’d incapacitated. The prince swung his sword back around in an arc, channeling his power into it, and released a slicing wave of flame at the second earthbender, who had to draw a wall of rock up to defend himself. The blade of fire slashed through the solid rock as if it were sand, but Genji stopped himself from killing the man hiding behind it and chose instead to leap over the half that was still standing to knock the man hard in the side of the head with the pommel of his sword, avoiding his wide hat entirely.

He spun around again to face another earthbender who was running to join the fray, but stopped when he saw Reyes swing his swords out to intercept him, a pile of guards already at his feet. When and how had he gotten up? His mind still filling with questions, he pulled himself out of his confusion when he saw the blacksmith gesture downward toward the inner side of the wall. Knowing there was plenty of time to ask his questions once they’d been thrown in prison, Genji filed them away for later, sheathed his sword, and leapt over the edge.

The prince ground the blade of his remaining claw into the wall for a distance as he fell, attempting to slow himself just a little so he could aim his landing. Still descending at an alarming rate, he soon found himself headed toward the thatched roof of a humble building that looked to be part of the agricultural district contained within the city’s outermost wall. With one last powerful blast he pushed himself up just a fraction of a foot, enough to stop his downward momentum and start it all over again. He crashed through the thatch at the rate of someone who’d jumped out of a second-story window and flopped to the floor. His eyes wide and wild, he labored to catch his breath while climbing back to his feet.

Hearing the clink of a ceramic against ceramic, he turned around to see a middle-aged man sitting at a table with his hand near his mouth as if he were holding a spoon, frozen. The utensil itself was upside down in his bowl of soup. The little boy in the seat across from him watched him in immense interest. Genji cleared his throat and smiled sheepishly.

“My apologies,” he whispered breathlessly, massaging his aching shoulder.

The boy, no older than five years old, simply giggled while his father slowly came back to life. Genji felt the need to drop a few coins for them to repair the damage, but the shouting of nearby guards called his attention more urgently.

“Sorry!” the prince hissed while whisking himself out the door. He scrambled out into the open to see some of the closest villagers had paused to gape at the hole in the roof, but most seemed unconcerned until the shouting guards had gotten closer.

Genji pushed his way through the crowd to search for a hiding spot, but yelped quietly when someone grabbed his shoulder and pulled him out of the road. He whipped around, ready for a fight, but was met with Reyes’s unconcerned gaze and considerable height.

“How…?”

“Not important right now,” the blacksmith grumbled, leading him through a narrow alley between a hut and a barn, crouched low. They both gasped when a rock rose behind them, closing off the way they’d come. Another rumble and a similar wall rose ahead of them, trapping them in the alley. “Shit…” Reyes cursed.

The sound of grinding stone sounded from either side of them as the walls in front and behind them rushed down the alley toward them, ready to make pancakes of them. Genji launched himself up with a quick blast and landed atop the rushing wall ahead of him, then jumped safely to the other side before spinning around to see if Reyes could make it. Somehow, the blacksmith had made it onto one of the hut’s roofs and was running along the shingles. He jumped down to meet him, clearly concealing a few more surprises up his sleeves. Something didn’t add up.

Together, Genji and the blacksmith ran further down the road in the hopes the guards wouldn’t risk hitting their own people to catch them. Their hopes had proved accurate, though they were still hot on their tails. Genji flung his ruined claw blade back at them, striking one of them in the leg to lessen their numbers.

“Shimada!” Reyes shouted over at him over the commotion they’d created, “do what you have to do to disappear.”

“What about you?” Genji cried back.

“ _Just do it_!”

Genji sighed in exasperated annoyance, but complied by dashing off to the side, splitting the group of pursuing guards in two. He leapt up to vault off the wall of one of the huts, across the narrow street to one of the taller buildings, what appeared to be a two-story inn or tavern. High enough to get on top of the hanging sign, he leapt off its support beam and through the open window above it, sliding in effortlessly.

He landed on the surface of a table that sat just in front of the window, knocking a paintbrush from its occupant’s hand with his foot, but managing to avoid the jar of ink, as he sprung off of it and through the door into the hall. Rolling over his shoulder, he dashed through the hall and dodged a village girl who cried out as he passed closely enough to ruffle her dress. Turning about just long enough to clasp his hands and bow his head in a silent apology, he hurried on to the other side of the building. He could hear armored men coming up the stairs behind him by the time he reached the far room. Lacking the time to slide it open, he burst through the paper door, startling the young couple inside, and dove out the window to arrive on the street opposite the one he’d left Reyes on.

The line of sight between him and his pursuers thoroughly broken, Genji hurried out toward the farm fields. He ran along an irrigation canal until he spotted a crop tall enough to hide and meander in. He rushed toward it, then sprung in among the stalks and continued further while crouched low in the plants, unsure what they were from his lack of experience with farms and raw produce.

Hidden in the fields, Genji waited until the shouts of the guards searching for him grew quieter before cautiously rising above the tops of the crop to assess the situation. Most of the soldiers were focused on the many buildings of the village, a safe enough distance away to allow him to move while two walked along the canal, peering in to see if he’d tried to hide in the shallow water.

The prince looked for another concentration of men to guess where Reyes might’ve ended up. He spotted a group of them diving in and out of alleyways in the distance, no doubt still in hot pursuit. Squinting, he located Reyes ahead of them, running straight toward a group of three that’d appeared from the fields to head him off. Genji crept forward as quickly as he dared with the pair of patrollers near the canal, hoping he could get close enough to help Reyes if a fight ensued.

Then, right before his eyes, Reyes vanished behind a wall off dust that rose spontaneously from the ground beneath him, whirling around to engulf the soldiers, who were forced to cover their faces with their arms, blocking their view. Safely at a distance, Genji was able to spot Reyes again as he burst free from the cloud of dust, flying through the air several feet above the ground, before landing at the base of a pillar that led up to support a section of the city’s vast monorail system. The blacksmith crouched, then sprung up the length of the pillar, leaving a swirl of air and dirt behind him, where he grabbed the lip of the pillar’s top and swung himself around, behind it, to hide.

Genji couldn’t think of anyone in the world who could be so spry…at least, not without the aid of some bending art. The dust…the leap…his ability to climb the wall just as quickly as he had? Was Reyes…an airbender? A secret airbender living in the Earth Kingdom, working with metal and raising an earthbender adopted son? Did anyone know?

Genji slunk through the fields toward the pillar while the earthbender guards recovered and began asking each other if any of them had seen where Reyes had gone, practically stumbling over themselves trying to think of a course of action. As confused as Genji still was himself, he smirked at that. He saw Reyes peek out from behind the pillar and spot him from his high perch, then gesture toward another section of the fields. Genji nodded up at him, then kept moving toward the spot he’d indicated with his gaze focused on the guards searching for them.

Although the earthbenders appeared to be just as determined to find them as they had before they’d lost them, the lack of direction kept them far from their marks, allowing Reyes to creep down the pillar and meet Genji among the stalks. He gestured for the prince to follow him and keep low, then headed in the direction of the city’s center.

Genji waited until they’d put distance between themselves and the village before speaking up: “that was quite impressive, Master Reyes.”

The blacksmith didn’t look back at him before replying with a grunt of acknowledgment.

“What purpose does an airbender have to live a sedentary life in Omashu?”

Reyes stopped and looked over the tops of the crop to plan their way to the slums ahead. “You’re expecting me to react like I’ve been found out, right?” he murmured, “sorry to disappoint you; it’s not some big secret.”

“Then why haven’t you told any of us?”

“No one ever asked.”

Genji frowned, but knew he was right. Most people were so accustomed to using their bending in their everyday lives that asking was never really necessary…but Reyes hadn’t exhibited his airbending even once during their time traveling together. Perhaps he simply hadn’t the need…or perhaps he was lying and only covering his ass by saying it wasn’t a secret.

“We haven’t seen you airbend before,” Genji reminded him, “why not? It isn’t as if it wouldn’t have come in handy.”

Reyes let out a long sigh, then crouched back in the plants and looked over at him. “Alright, let’s get this out of the way,” he whispered, “I don’t live the life of an air nomad anymore because it doesn’t suit me anymore. My air bison was killed by a firebender, I ran off to fight the war, my airbending skill diminished to almost nothing, and I wound up in Omashu with a kid I didn’t father. How about we focus on the task at hand?”

“Fighting a war over territory does not align with the ingrained mindset of the air nomads. I would go so far as to say it defies the very nature of airbending. Perhaps you were fighting an internal battle, much like my brother does now.”

“Well, at least you’re smart.”

Sensing Reyes wasn’t comfortable being put on the spot, Genji knew he’d have to leave it alone…but clearly his airbending skills hadn’t remained diminished. Something he’d done had restored them, and perhaps that something could help Hanzo. Deciding to risk being hit with the silent treatment, he pressed on: “your skills seem quite advanced, at least from where I was watching. What did you do to fix it?”

“I found a new purpose that reconciled who I am with who I thought I was supposed to be. Fighting to restore harmony in the name of Avatar Mondatta makes my choice to become a soldier align with the person I was raised to be among the air nomads, gave me a new view of myself. I guess you could call it inner peace, if you’re into that kind of thing.” The prince tried to think of anything that might’ve been keeping Hanzo from being the person he thought he was supposed to be, but came up empty-handed. Seeing Genji wasn’t completely satisfied with that answer, the frustration on Reyes’s face grew for just a split second, before fading away entirely. He nodded to himself, then gave the prince the first sincere look he’d ever gotten from him. “If you really want to help your brother, talk to Jesse,” he stated.

“What would he have to do with my brother? They never talk to each other.”

“Exactly,” Reyes replied firmly, “Jesse is an easy-going guy, almost aggravatingly so, but when something actually gets under his skin he does a complete one-eighty. You met him before, right? Compare that to how he acts now: irritable, snappy…you weren’t there to see it, but before you came along he and your brother were thick as thieves.”

“That…isn’t possible,” Genji assured him with a small chuckle, “Hanzo doesn’t make friends that quickly, and even when he does I wouldn’t call them close.”

“So I’ve noticed, but Jesse has a way of sneaking into people’s shells, especially if he really wants to…and he wanted to sneak into your brother’s,” the blacksmith explained with an odd tone in his voice. Genji though he might’ve been trying to hint at something, but he couldn’t figure out what it was before he continued, “and it’s not just Jesse who’s changed. Hanzo was getting to a point he was almost tolerable, but now he’s back to being moody and dull since you popped up. There’s something wrong between the three of you and it’s potent enough to affect your brother’s bending. Figure it out.”

Genji tried to imagine Hanzo getting along with someone other than himself, but it wasn’t exactly a clear picture. Obviously, Reyes was trying to say his reappearance had changed something between McCree and Hanzo…but he doubted that was the whole of it. Hanzo was being his usual distant self toward everyone else, but it’d been years since the last time the two brothers were so happy in each other’s company. Hanzo was glad he was back…but perhaps McCree wasn’t? It didn’t exactly make sense.

Although Genji had more questions to ask, Reyes moved on, leading him toward the slum. He resolved to try figuring it out for himself as the blacksmith had told him, but it would be hard with all of them so preoccupied with saving the world from being engulfed in chaos. Being wound up in stress kept them guarded and tightened, and that wasn’t a good state to address matters of friendship and purpose. They needed a break. Rather, they needed to have some fun and, rusty as he was, having fun was once his specialty.

 


	24. Chapter Twenty-Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New place, new job, new computer, and realization I hadn't written in months...
> 
> So here I am, back at it again with the shameless fan fiction!

Hanzo looked up from the map he’d “found” in one of the shops on the way into the slums when he heard a creak of wood nearby. It was quiet, and had it been any earlier in the night he doubted he would’ve been able to hear it over the activity outside, but it wasn’t some simple result of the wind or the building’s old age. It was quiet and deliberate, with a deepness that suggested weight…which meant someone was trying not to be heard. The fire lord leaned over to puff his candle out and grabbed his knife from the belt draped over the back of his chair before sneaking toward the corner of the room beside the window where he guessed the sound had originated.

In the dark he waited and listened. Whoever it was clearly had some nimble skill, only making nearly silent noises every few seconds as they crept closer. He watched the window slide open, then lunged forward only to have his wrist caught by the intruder before he could make contact. Surprised, he maintained the presence of mind to bring forth the largest flame he could summon.

“No, wait!” the intruder gasped.

Hanzo sighed loudly and angrily. “What are you doing here, Genji?” he whispered hoarsely, pulling his brother inside so he could close the window after him, “do you not remember our discussing the importance of remaining separated?” As relieved as he was to see he’d remained unharmed while enacting his insane scheme, his presence could only put them in more danger, a fact he wasn’t going to let slide by letting that relief show outwardly.

“It’s good to see you safe, too, Hanzo.”

The fire lord crossed his arms over his chest. “Do not mistake my caution for disregard toward your safety.”

His brother smirked and shrugged a little. “I know it’s important. This is important too.”

“Then speak quickly.”

Genji strode over to the desk and snapped his finger over the candle to light it. Hanzo tried not to grimace too visibly. _Show off_. The prince looked over the map unfurled on the desk’s surface for a few seconds before nodding to himself and looking back at Hanzo.

“I need you to come with me, Brother,” he said.

“Where would we be going?” Hanzo replied, raising a critical eyebrow.

“I don’t want to say that out loud; someone could be listening. You will be back before morning, that I can promise.”

Hanzo glanced to his left, toward the door that led into the bed chamber. Humble as the town outside the inner gate was, they’d managed to find an inn with “suites” that included both a bedroom and entry room, allowing him to study the map while the others slept. It was vague where the inner circle was concerned, no doubt deliberately. It wasn’t as if the fire lord distributed detailed maps of the closest districts to his palace either. Admittedly, he wasn’t actually learning much from studying it.

“The commander is asleep,” Genji added quietly, “but I don’t think it would have been hard for us to sneak away when he was awake, if I am honest. The longer we wait here, the longer we risk being overheard, friendly ear or not. I don’t want to have to convince him too.”

“Were you anyone else I would find this very suspicious,” Hanzo replied, narrowing his eyes. As cagey as Genji was being, however, it would’ve been incredibly stupid of him to wait until they’d all been reunited to take his vengeance, and a needlessly convoluted plan to achieve it for that matter. No, he was certain he could trust Genji…but he wished he knew why he wouldn’t tell him where they were going. His claim that his discretion was to keep their destination from prying ears seemed a little weak, and the look on his face didn’t seem urgent at all. In fact, it seemed oddly…jovial. “If we must,” he breathed at last, making his exasperation apparent through his voice.

Genji grinned and extinguished the candle while Hanzo opened the window for him to head out in the lead. The two brothers slunk quietly along the shingles of the inn’s bottom floor roof before dropping down into the alley below. To Hanzo’s surprise, they were not alone. Squinting through the faint light of a lantern around the corner he was able to identify their three nearly-concealed companions. Angela, Zenyatta, and…McCree. It only raised more questions, though Genji clearly wouldn’t answer any of them if he asked.

Their leader gestured silently for the group to follow him out into the street. McCree lowered his hat to hide most of his face in its shadow while Angela raised the hood of her dress and Genji covered his scars behind his scarf. Hanzo looked over at Zenyatta, pondering if he and the monk should have brought coverings…though perhaps all of them traveling in thin disguises would probably end up being more suspicious than not.

They walked through the town in silence while Hanzo wondered how much the others knew about their mysterious late-night mission. It didn’t escape his notice that none of their elders were present. Or, perhaps…none of their chaperones. The conclusion Hanzo came up with seemed too far-fetched to be believed. Certainly, Genji knew how to prioritize. Right?

The suspicion in the back of his mind seemed to be growing more and more likely as the sound of upbeat, yet simple music became apparent in the distance, steadily growing louder as they walked. He thought he should probably say something. But what would he say? He could tell by the way McCree was looking around that he wasn’t sure what was going on either. Only Zenyatta appeared completely at peace, though he supposed that was about as normal as his composure got.

When Genji stopped and gestured toward the entrance to a tavern triumphantly Hanzo couldn’t stay his tongue any longer. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded in a loud whisper, “you snuck into all of our rooms and led us out into the town to attend a party?”

“I know what you’re thinking, Brother,” Genji assured him. As ridiculous as his actions had been, there didn’t appear to be any apologetic look in his eyes, the only part of his face visible beneath the scarf. “You’re thinking I’m wasting our time, but I’ve thought this through. It is a known fact that any soldier, no matter how disciplined, must eventually release his tension to remain effective in battle.”

“I am going back,” Hanzo declared indignantly, turning about before waiting for Genji’s inevitable protest.

“The truly stupid thing to do at this moment would be to wander off on your own at night in a foreign city.” Hanzo glanced back to see that damned smug look in his brother’s eye. “You’re stuck with us, Hanzo.”

The fire lord sighed quietly and turned around again, reluctantly. “If this backfires and we end up on the run I will never follow you anywhere again, Genji. Do you understand this?”

“This ain’t exactly the first place I’d look to find a couple o’ royals sneakin’ ‘round Ba Sing Se,” McCree contributed, clutching his pipe between his teeth as he talked, “rumor has it the inner circle’s real cosmopolitan.”

Hanzo noted the tone in his voice. It was…calm, with the cadence it’d always possessed before things began to go horribly wrong. He didn’t want to make any assumptions about what it meant. Perhaps he was simply looking forward to unwinding, as Genji was.

“And if you’re thinking ‘wouldn’t they expect that’, the answer is no,” Genji continued, “McCree told me how Earth Kingdom royals act. If you think father believed himself superior to his people, you will be surprised.”

“The people here are no friends of the Dai Li,” Zenyatta added quietly, clearly unconcerned about letting his guard down behind enemy lines _for a dance_ , “they are often suppressed by them.”

“Very well,” Hanzo groaned, realizing he wouldn’t be successful in convincing any of them to return with him. While he was confident he could handle the average mugger or street gang, he knew he wouldn’t stand a chance if an earthbender identified him. As his brother had said, he was stuck with them.

The group removed their coverings before entering the tavern. It seemed there was some sort of celebration going on, perhaps the birthday of someone close to the owner or a minor Earth Kingdom holiday. With so many people dancing, drinking, and laughing together no one noticed them enter. Almost immediately, Genji took hold of Angela’s hand and swept her away to join the fast-paced dance, to Zenyatta’s obvious pleased amusement. The monk himself took some time to observe their surroundings before reaching into his sleeve to produce a small flute and joining the band seamlessly. The light, lyrical tunes of his flute complimented the song so well the members of the band approved vocally while some of the dancers let up a small cheer from the floor.

And then they were alone. Hanzo slipped away quickly, aware as soon as he saw the monk leave that he would need to say something to McCree if he didn’t put some distance between them. Even after weeks of thought on the matter he had no words for the man. It was all confusion for him. He didn’t know exactly why his words had offended the earthbender so supremely while the brother he’d wronged had long since forgiven him for his terrible actions. Of course, he couldn’t expect everyone to behave like Genji. Even that amount of forgiveness was undeserved.

The fire lord deliberately lost track of McCree while he found a table in the corner where he would watch from a distance. As awkward as the situation he’d been put in had turned out to be it was nice to see his brother so happy. He’d seen Genji dance with girls before…many girls over the years. But this was different. It was genuine happiness, a degree of joy that was matched on the waterbender’s face while they twirled around the dance floor, so engrossed in each other’s company it seemed only a sword would cut through their gazes. They made a graceful pair, and attracted the admiration of more than a few of their fellow dancers.

Despite himself, Hanzo realized he really was tired. As sleepless as he’d been in the inn and as reluctant as he’d been to go inside, it seemed the tavern’s relaxed atmosphere had sapped the paranoia from him. He folded his arms in front of him on the table’s surface and rested his chin on his forearm, feeling truly relaxed for the first time since escaping his childhood home.

He didn’t realize his eyes were closed until he sensed someone enter his space, causing them to shoot open immediately, just in time to see McCree place a glass of liquid in front of him. Quickly, Hanzo straightened, suddenly feeling embarrassed for showing him such weakness.

“Don’t know if it’s up to yer standards, but I asked fer the best rice wine they had,” the earthbender said soberly, though he was holding a cup of what smelled like whiskey for himself.

Hanzo ran a few possible responses through his mind, then settled on “why?”, only to wish he’d picked something better immediately afterward.

“’Cuz I owe you an apology,” McCree replied. It wasn’t what he expected him to say, but it seemed there was no malice in his countenance. It didn’t appear to be a lie. The earthbender sighed heavily while taking a seat at the table with him and setting his own drink down. “I’m not rightly sure what came over me, if I’m honest,” he went on, “guess hearin’ ya say you hurt yer family hit me somewhere I’m still raw. There ain’t anyone left from my real family. I’m not sayin’ Pa didn’t do his best to raise me, but I just thought…well, if I still had one of ‘em ‘round…” He sighed again, shaking his head at himself. “Don’t know where I’m goin’ with that one.”

“I believe I understand what you mean to say,” Hanzo admitted, the fingers of his furthest hand subconsciously clutching and unclutching his bicep in nervous tension.

“Thing is, soon as Genji came ta tell me my Pa was alright after that cock-eyed plan all that bullshit went away and I realized what an asshole I’d been,” McCree continued, his voice thankfully low to avoid catching the attention of those at the nearest table, “I mean, if the guy you tried ta kill can forgive ya, what right do I have holdin’ a grudge?”

There was a moment of silence between them while McCree clearly tried to focus on his drink so he wouldn’t be watching Hanzo expectantly for a reply. The fire lord reached down to take the glass he’d offered him and sipped it tentatively. It wasn’t exactly a fine sake…but it would do the trick. He took a drink in earnest. At last, he worked up the courage and nodded to himself while setting it down again.

“I do not want you to apologize to me,” he murmured, the words bringing back memories of the time they’d first kissed.

It’d been strangely adorable that McCree would so brazenly bring their lips together, then immediately apologize. Such a normally confident man humbled by the complication of genuine attraction. It was a confusing mix of emotions, then. The guilt of having let him down, the fondness and excitement of the memory, the awkwardness of their close proximity after such a long period of purposeful separation.

The conclusion of his reply came out in little more than a whisper, “you have nothing to apologize for.” Finally, he looked over at him, their gazes meeting in earnest for the first time in a long time. “I should apologize for having misled you…Jesse.” Thinking of him in those terms, speaking his first name aloud…he could almost feel the leaf turning. “In withholding the truth of my actions, I gave you reason to believe I was something other than what I truly was.”

The earthbender’s brow furrowed. “What d’ya think you led me to believe you were?” he asked.

“A good man.”

“Wouldn’t be so sure ‘bout that,” Jesse replied, grinning slyly, “you _are_ a firebender.”

Hanzo snorted a laugh. “You may find this hard to believe…but I think my father would have liked you.”

“How do you mean?”

“That you would take responsibility for this on your own shoulders despite your objective blamelessness. In truth I have not been kind to his memory. As questionable as his choices may have been at times, he was a respectable man and he valued the honor in others. But he was old-fashioned. He would not have expected you to be the son of a farmer.”

Jesse let out a short chuckle and took a drink. “Aren’t we a pair of right ungrateful sons,” he mused, “I been a real asshole to my Pa, too.”

“And yet it is clear his care for you runs deep,” Hanzo replied, feeling just a pang of envy. Although he’d been truthful about how his father would have felt toward Jesse, he knew even that approval would not permit that which was forbidden between them. Reyes obviously did not share that sentiment.

“Yeah, I’ve still got a few apologies ahead of me…but enough o’ the serious talk. We came here to have fun.” Taking a rather large swig of his drink, Jesse slapped the cup down on the table with gusto, grinning wide. “So, what’s the fire lord do to have fun?” he asked, “I mean, when yer done orderin’ the servants around.”

Hanzo hummed curtly at the well-mannered dig and decided to take an equally large gulp of his own drink. “I think you wouldn’t believe my answer.”

“Try me.”

Hanzo hummed again, the corner of his mouth turning upward as he remembered a very different part of his life. “I once ran away with a troupe of actors for an entire year.”

One of Jesse’s eyebrows arched independently of the other. “Come again?”

“They were kabuki performers. While the art usually takes much more training and practice than a single year, a bender tends to have naturally excellent body control, and they did allow me to play some minor roles.” The fire lord chuckled at the look of bewilderment on his companion’s face. “It’s where I learned to dance, as well.”

Jesse’s eyes narrowed. “You yankin’ my chain?”

Hanzo chuckled again, polishing off his drink. “I was twelve, and had just had a…’heated discussion’ with one of my instructors,” he explained, “I was angry my father had chosen such an aggravating man to teach me the history of our nation.”

“So you ran off to act in plays?” Jesse surmised incredulously.

Hanzo shrugged, laughing a little more openly while he began to feel warmth pooling in his chest. “Naturally.” He raised his hand to signal for a second drink. “My father was of the opinion that kabuki is vulgar and unfit for the nobility, which is not uncommon among the upper class in my home nation. I thought it would…well, irk him when he finally found out where I’d been.”

Eyeing Hanzo’s empty glass, Jesse proceeded to drain his own. “Can’t imagine that was much of a happy reunion,” he drawled amusedly.

The fire lord scoffed his agreement. “No, it wasn’t. Needless to say, I left the foolish acts of rebellion to Genji from then on.”

The conversation that followed continued fluidly and happily while more drinks came and went. Hanzo wasn’t exactly sure when they wound up on the floor to dance, but that was what happened. He was certain they were making fools of themselves with their impaired reflexes, but he couldn’t bring himself to care too deeply about it, and they seemed to be in similarly spirited company as the night went on. At some point, he left the tavern with Jesse, entirely unaware if there was anyone else going with them.

\---

By the time the fire lord’s inhibitions began to return he was more than exhausted…but he knew better than to spend the night where he lay. He sat up and gave his eyes a quick rub to focus them. His world wasn’t swimming as it had been a few hours before, but he knew the morning would hold an unpleasant surprise for him in the form of one solid hangover. Despite the surety of his future discomfort, he found himself feeling good about how things had turned out. Still, he knew he’d need at least half a day to rest through the aftermath of their impromptu party before things would return to business as usual.

Hanzo pushed himself to his feet, letting the blanket fall off of him only to be greeted by the chilly night air against exposed skin. He quickly pulled his commoner’s robes back around him to ward it off, grunting groggily at the unwelcome surprise.

“What lit a fire in yer britches?” he heard Jesse groan out from behind him.

Hanzo looked back at him over his shoulder. He was face-down in his pillow, looking ready to pass out for duration of the next century. He shifted to turn his head against the pillow and peer up at him. The fire lord reached up to run his fingers through his mussed hair, determined to appear wholly blameless before heading out into the streets again. “I should not be found here like this,” he admitted, “Master Ana and my brother are just a hallway away.”

“You think people think the fire lord sleeps with his clothes on?”

Hanzo rolled his eyes back into his head, feigning exasperation. “You are fully aware of what I meant,” he scolded him.

Jesse grunted while propping himself up on his elbow, sighing tiredly. “I could just lock the door,” he teased.

“It would be a risk…and I do not think I am ready for my brother to become aware of our…situation. Especially not like this. I should not sneak like a criminal around him…perhaps I will need to tell him outright.”

Jesse grimaced. “How’re ya gonna start a conversation like that?” he muttered.

Hanzo took in a heavy breath and let it out slowly, shaking his head.

“You want me to do it? I mean, it’d be weird, but if it’s important to ya that he know…”

“That would be worse than if he were to walk in here himself in the next second,” the fire lord replied quickly, eager to shut that down, “besides, it’s not just…Genji. There is still my duty. As glad as I am to have the memories…memories of when I was happiest…”

“Now hold up.” Hanzo looked back again to see Jesse stand up himself and quickly pull on his pants to join him. “Ya don’t have t’be be sorry if this doesn’t turn in to anythin’,” he went on, “we weren’t exactly what anyone might call sober.”

Upon seeing the formidable lean muscle that gave shape to Jesse’s bare chest and biceps, Hanzo began to feel like doing something unwise…again. “And if I might want it to?”

Jesse put on his sly grin. “Then we let it,” he stated.

 “It would be selfish of me,” Hanzo warned him, “there is still my duty…”

The earthbender inched a little closer to him. “So it won’t be permanent,” he whispered, “it’s not like anythin’ really is.”

“You are suggesting we take what we can get while we can get it.”

“Whaddya think?” Jesse’s hand made its way around his waist as he advanced again.

“You make a persuasive case,” Hanzo replied, refusing to acknowledge the point of contact, to which the earthbender responded by sliding his other hand in place on the other side of his waist. The fire lord didn’t stop him from leaning in, but craned his neck away just before he could kiss him. “But not tonight,” he murmured, “not again.” He smiled, a little teasingly, as he took Jesse’s hands off of his body. “We will find the time. I promise you that.”

Jesse grunted uncomfortably, but let his arms fall harmlessly at his sides. “It ain’t that I don’t trust ya…but, damn, I didn’t think I’d have to wait _now_.”

The fire lord smiled again, then started toward the door. “Patience, Earthbender. Is that not the key to your discipline?”

He heard Jesse scoff out a chuckle behind him. “Just git before I can’t help myself anymore.”

As coy as his mood was as he left Jesse behind, Hanzo quickly sobered his expression by the time he’d slipped out into the hall. The lanterns that lit the passage were running out of oil, leaving just enough light to see his way out while leaving the corners and areas where the floor met the walls blanketed in thick shadows. He crept forward slowly, trying his hardest not to let a single floorboard creak under his weight. He glanced at the door he knew led into Master Ana’s room as he passed, listening for any sign of disturbance. All remained quiet. As he approached Genji’s door, he peered through the dark at it, but found only a void. The door was open.

Clenching his teeth, he kept his steps especially light and slow as he oozed past the open doorway at the pace of leaking tree sap. He froze when a voice pierced the silence: “I thought it was important we remain separate.” Hanzo’s head flicked in the direction of the doorway where he could barely make out Genji’s frame. The prince lit a flame over his hand, allowing his brother to see the grin on his face. “For someone sneaking around like a thief in the night you look pleased with yourself.”

“It seems I indulged a little too heavily at the tavern,” Hanzo replied strategically, “our two inns are not far apart; I’m sure I will find my way back safely.”

“Indulged…with a girl?”

Hanzo had to put serious effort into keeping his response in the form of a whisper: “no!”

“Really?”

“Yes. Why would you ask me that?”

“Because for a second I thought ‘ah, my big brother finally managed to get laid!’”

It was apparent to the fire lord that his younger sibling had enjoyed a few beverages of his own, but he made sure to let him know how indignant he was at the insinuation with a hefty scowl. “I did. And it was hardly my first time, idiot.”

“Then why did you lie to me?”

“I didn’t lie. How long have you been standing there?”

To that Genji only shrugged, before putting that silly grin back on his face. “Why were you in McCree’s room?”

“I’m not in the mood for stupid games, Genji,” Hanzo muttered, “now, before you react, know that it is only temporary. I will not shirk my duty to our people.”

Genji shrugged again. “Ok?”

To that, Hanzo had to squint in uncertainty. Drink or no, he didn’t expect his brother to care so little about something meant to be forbidden to members of their family, something that could impact the future of the Fire Nation with dire consequences. Lack of an heir, the ensuing power struggle, the possibility of civil war? That wasn’t something to shrug at.

“You…are not even surprised?”

“I saw you two dancing at the tavern,” the prince reminded him, “or did you think you had become invisible? When Reyes described your friendship to me he neglected to mention just how ‘strong’ it is, but it isn’t something I want to spend the time being shocked about.”

“And…the law?”

“What law?”

Again, Hanzo suspected he was being messed with, which got his heart pounding in frustration. “The traditions, Genji! My duty to ensure the future of the dynasty.”

Genji only stared at him with pursed lips for a few moments while trying to discern his meaning through the incomplete explanation and the haze left over from his partying. At last, he wrinkled his forehead at him. “Do you think there is a law that forbids you from having relationships with men?” he asked. Still sensing some tomfoolery afoot, Hanzo only narrowed his eyes at him more. “You think there is a law that dictates what the fire lord does? Who do you think creates the laws?”

“You were never the best student of the law.”

“I studied at my own pace, Hanzo. There’s no law like that. You’re the fire lord! You can do whatever—or whoever you want,” the prince declared in a nearly sing-song voice, seemingly giddy that he thought he knew something about the state better than his older brother.

“Don’t be crass,” Hanzo hissed.

“You’re the one who stuck his hand in the pastry jar, Brother. Or did he stick his in yours?”

The fire lord sneered at him. “You’re an insufferable drunk. Do you actually want to know that?”

“Of course not! You look ridiculous when you’re flustered.”

Hanzo planted his hands on his hips. “Focus! What do you mean there is no law? Am I not expected to take a queen and father an heir?”

“You have a healthy brother of marrying age. Why does the next fire lord of our line _need_ to come from you, a man I have never known to show true interest in such things? I’m not _completely_ unreasonable.” Genji smile morphed into half a frown as he arrived at a realization. “Father told you that, didn’t he? After he banished—”

“How do you know about that?”

“I was twelve, Hanzo. I wasn’t blind and deaf.” Despite himself, Genji released a small, humorless chuckle. “He probably didn’t want me to have a hand in raising the heir either, genetic or otherwise. He did love his plans.”

As clumsily as the news had been delivered to him, Hanzo felt as if a mountain had been lifted off his shoulders. He wasn’t living in the cage he’d thought he was for the past five years. Genji could produce an heir. _Genji could produce an heir_. There was no law that stated he had to spend the majority of his life bonded to a person he merely tolerated. There was warmth pooling in him again, but it wasn’t the alcohol this time. It was something he’d been missing for a while. He had to get back to the inn and rest to get as early a start as he could. He’d finally figured out what he was going to do about the Earth King.

“Are you going to marry McCree?”

Hanzo snapped out of his reverie to grimace at his brother. “It’s a little early for that. Go to sleep, Genji.” He turned away from him and proceeded down the hallway with a determined pace.

“Goodnight, Mr. McCree,” Genji called from behind, way too loudly.

In a flash Hanzo whipped his sandal off his foot and whirled around to throw it at him. The prince dodged clumsily and began to laugh.

“ _Go to sleep,_ Genji!”


End file.
